Nobody told me my face would break out if I started writing Middle Grade fiction, but it has! And do you think it’s a coincidence? Hmmm??? I don’t think so. The universe has decided if I’m going to embarrass my characters like that, then I too shall pay.When I was in seventh grade, I got a whopper on my forehead. Nothing could hide it, not make-up, not my bangs, nothing. It may have been three or four joined together, I’ve tried to block it from my memory. However, I cannot block the memory of sitting down at the dinner table with my family and having my dad lean across the table and look at me with horror filled eyes and say, “What’s that?”
“NOTHING!” I said.
“I mean…will it go away?” he asked.
Really. If you’re going to be ask questions that humiliating, should you really have kids? I’m looking for a good place to use it in my new book.
How did your parents’ humiliate you in seventh and eighth grade?
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