I've been 'laughing about this for 4.7589 days

When I was in high school, I somehow came across an excellent book called A Girl Named Zippy by Haven Kimmel. As the back cover says, it "offers and rare and welcome treat: a memoir of a happy childhood." It is a collection of stories and memories from the life of Haven, nicknamed Zippy by her father, from her growing up years in the 1960's and 70's in the tiny town (pop. 300) of Mooreland, Indiana, USA. I started reading it by myself when I first found it, but my mom heard me laughing out loud so much as I made my way through it that she forced me to stop so that she and Dad and I could read it out loud together. Which we did.

Some years have passed since then, but recently I came across the book again in the library system here, and I thought, why not have all the laughs again? It's so fun reading it. I've forgotten so much of what happened in the book, and it's sheer delight discovering the world of Zippy anew.

Anyway, I'm explaining all of this because I wanted to share a snippet of the book that seriously tickled my funny bone this week. Perhaps it will spark your interest and you can go find Zippy in your local library too. :) This is from pages 117-118 in my copy:

"I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I was going to be when I grew up. There were just so many things I was good at. For instance, I could run across the living room and dive into a headstand on the couch, with my legs slapping the wall behind it. Sometimes I would make my parents sit and watch me do this fifteen times in a row.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, it's another perfect ten for Zippy!' Dad would shout, while my mother clapped politely. I tended to do it until my neck got twisted, which would make me incredibly mad. Sometimes I had to stomp out of the house saying I hated that sport and would never do it again.

I was also very good at Interview. What follows is an actual transcript from a tape I made with my mother:

Me: 'Mom. Mom. Mom. Hey. Let's do Interview.'

Mom: 'Not now, sweetheart. Let me just finish this arm.' [Note: She was knitting a sweater.]

We hear the 'Me' character snort unhappily into the microphone, and then something that sounds remarkably like cat fur. The recorder is shut off abruptly, and then comes back on.

Me: 'Hey, Mom. Mom. Mamamamamamam. Let's do Interview now.'

Mom: 'We will. I'm almost done with this.'

There is generalized stomping and fury. The recorder is shut off, and then comes back on.

Me: 'Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so. Lootle ones to heem belonga. They are weak but he is stronga. Mom. Mom. Is it time for Interview?'

Mom: 'If you don't stop pestering me I'll never finish this sleeve and then we'll never play Interview.'

A little primal throaty sound. The recorder is shut off. Comes back on.

Mom: 'Good evening, and welcome to Interview. Let's just go straight to our guest and have her tell us her name. Can you tell us your name, miss?'

Me: 'No.'
Mom: [surprised] 'Don't you know your name?'

Me: 'No.'

Mom: 'Okay, then, is there something else you'd like to tell our audience?'

Me: 'Not today.'

Mom: 'Well, then. I guess we'll just sign off. Would you like to say goodbye?'

Me: 'No.'

Tape is shut off."

Hahahhahaha. I especially love the bit about the "little primal throaty sound." Isn't that JUST the sound kids make when they are annoyed?

Had to share.