Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 06 by Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers

enquiries and—”
    Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
    monday may 23rd
8:30 a.m.
    What in the name of arse happened? I remember putting on the TV and Mum and Dad coming in and saying, “We are just going to have a little zizz.”
    I thought, “Hahahaha, now is my chance. I will just lie on my ginormous bed and have a little rest to perk me up for my phone call to the Luuurve God.” And then it was now. If you see what I mean.
    But hey hey hey, this is our Official First Morning in Hamburger-a-gogo land!
    Jas was awake looking at me. In her giant sleeping knicker ensemble and giant bed. I said, “Howdy,” and she said, “Alrighty,” and I said, “Gol’darn rootin’ tootin’, I’m alrighty.”
    And we laughed like loons in Loonland, which we are.
    9:00 a.m. hamburger-timewise
    Jas was looking out of our two-hundred-million-floor window and I said, “Any sign of cowboys?”
    And she said, “No, but I can see some bloke doing nuddy-pants gardening on a roof.”
    Wowzee wow!! I leapt out of bed and went to the window and there was Mr. Rudey Dudey Nudey on the roof of another hotel!
    I said, “Boo, he’s wearing tiny swimming knickers, or swimming panties, as we must say to get along with people here. I can’t stop to chat with you now, Jas. I’m going to use our phone to call up Masimo in Manhattan.”
    Jas said, “Good luck. Hey, I wonder if I could phone Tom in Kiwi-a-gogo.”
    It was really groovy having our own phone for once.
    I said to Jas, “What is the codey-type thing for Manhattan?”
    Typically, Jas didn’t know. I don’t know what the point of coming top in history is if you don’t even know the simplest thing, but I didn’t say that because I am vair nearly in Luuurve Heaven City.
    I phoned reception and an alarmingly cheerful person said, “Gayleen speaking, how can I help you, ma’am?”
    â€œOh, er, I would like to make a call to Manhattan, please.”
    â€œYou got it. Now you just wait, ma’am, while I connect you to the appropriate party.”
    This was more like it. I said to Jas, “This is why I luuurve the American-type people. They DO stuff for you. Also they are very truthful—you know, like last night that bloke said I was beautiful and had a sparkling personality. That is again why I like them, because they are full of SINCERIOSITY!”
    And that is when Dad answered the phone.
    â€œDad!”
    â€œOh, yes, I wondered how long it would be before you were on the phone to your mates, telling them what you are having for breakfast and what color lipstick you might wear.”
    Donner and Blitzen!
    And merde !
    And also DARN!!!
    Even on holiday Dad is so mad and unreasonable. He has told the hotel to put all our calls through to him!
    I said to him, “What if I needed to call the emergency services?”
    â€œI could call them.”
    â€œBut what if you had, er, fallen over your shorts and—”
    â€œGeorgia, shut up and just accept that you are not calling your mates on the hotel phone. You can use your own money in a phone box.” Then he hung up.
    Sacré bleu.
    The phone rang. It was Vati again.
    â€œAnd don’t even think about eating anything out of the room bar or using room service without my permission.”
    What was this? A holiday or Stalag 14 on tour?
    Â 
    Through the Fat Controller (Dad), Me and Jas ordered the “healthy option” breakfast.
    fifteen minutes later
    Me and Jas are sitting in the bath watching the mini TV on the shelf by the sink. It’s like on a stem thing and you can twist it around so you can watch it from any angle, even on the loo. (By the way, we were sitting in the bath not in a lezzie way, just in a in-our-jimjams way).
    There was a knock at the door and our “healthy option” breakfast arrived.
    I don’t know whose idea of a healthy option it was, but in my book twenty-five tons