- HOME
- THE BOOKS
- SCHOOL & VIRTUAL VISITS
- CONFERENCES, WORKSHOPS & BOOK FESTIVALS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- FOR WRITERS & ILLUSTRATORS
- CREATIVITY CORNER
- PRESS KIT
- CONTACT
EXCERPT FROM AS IF BEING 12-3/4 ISN'T BAD ENOUGH, MY MOTHER IS RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT!
(Copyright 2008 by Donna Gephart)
“Mom!” I turn off the TV and press the phone against my ear. I want to tell Mom everything about Reginald, at least the good parts. I want to tell her how he liked my poem and how we talked on the phone for nearly an hour.
But all that comes out is, “Where are you?”
“Excuse me?”
I’m not sure if Mom can’t hear me or if I’ve put my size 9 ½ feet into my mouth by saying something stupid.
“Vanessa,” she screeches. “Aren’t you watching the news?”
As if I actually watch the news when she isn’t here. “I was watching—”
I start to say I was watching our show, Gilmore Girls, and I wish she’d been here to watch it with me. Then I realize I didn’t watch it at all because I spent the time on the phone with Reginald.
“Why?” I ask. “Did something happen?” I worry that Florida is about to be pounded by another hurricane and I was too busy on the phone with Reginald to hear about it, but this is ridiculous because hurricane season ended almost two months ago.
“Turn it on, honey. Turn on CNN.”
I turn on CNN, and what I see knocks me backward. Fortunately, I fall on the most padded part of my anatomy. (Anatomy. A-N-A-T-O-M-Y. Anatomy.)
Oh, for goodness sake!
Mom’s face takes up the whole screen. She’s wearing the gold earrings Dad had given her when she first became governor. I’m used to seeing Mom on the local news, but CNN? That’s for important people. I read the banner above Mom’s head.
“OHMYGOD!”
“Nessa, you see it, don’t you? Do you know what this might mean?”
I mumble the words on the screen, “Elyssa Rothrock, Governor of Florida, wins New Hampshire primary.”
My stomach drops as though I plunged down the tracks on a roller coaster without wearing a safety bar across my lap. I know exactly what this might mean. I thought when Mom won the Iowa Caucus last week, it was just a fluke and she’d lose the rest of the primaries, but this… this means she might actually have a chance to win her party’s nomination. To run for President of the United States!
“That’s right, Nessa. And with the Iowa Caucus win, this should give me the boost we need to take the lion’s share of primaries in early February.”
This is real.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
How did this happen? When Mom asked if I’d support her running for president, I said yes because I thought it would take her mind off things. I never imagined she actually had a shot at winning the party’s nomination. I mean, Mom’s got two things going against her—boobs! Didn’t anyone bother to tell her she’s a woman, and a woman has never been elected President of the United States, except on TV? I mean, she’s a great governor. But President? She’ll be so busy, I’ll never see her!
“Nessa?”
“I’m here.”
“What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Vanessa!”
I can’t deal with this now. “Did you know I won the school spelling bee today? I’m going to the County Bee.”
“Didn’t you get the flowers I sent?”
I sigh. Mom did send the flowers. “They’re beautiful. I totally love them. Purple is my favorite—”
“Coming Arnie!”
I move the phone from my ear. Arnie is Mom’s campaign manager and spends way more time with her than I do.
“Mom?”
“Looks like we’re both winners today, Nessa!”
Then why do I feel like a loser?
But all that comes out is, “Where are you?”
“Excuse me?”
I’m not sure if Mom can’t hear me or if I’ve put my size 9 ½ feet into my mouth by saying something stupid.
“Vanessa,” she screeches. “Aren’t you watching the news?”
As if I actually watch the news when she isn’t here. “I was watching—”
I start to say I was watching our show, Gilmore Girls, and I wish she’d been here to watch it with me. Then I realize I didn’t watch it at all because I spent the time on the phone with Reginald.
“Why?” I ask. “Did something happen?” I worry that Florida is about to be pounded by another hurricane and I was too busy on the phone with Reginald to hear about it, but this is ridiculous because hurricane season ended almost two months ago.
“Turn it on, honey. Turn on CNN.”
I turn on CNN, and what I see knocks me backward. Fortunately, I fall on the most padded part of my anatomy. (Anatomy. A-N-A-T-O-M-Y. Anatomy.)
Oh, for goodness sake!
Mom’s face takes up the whole screen. She’s wearing the gold earrings Dad had given her when she first became governor. I’m used to seeing Mom on the local news, but CNN? That’s for important people. I read the banner above Mom’s head.
“OHMYGOD!”
“Nessa, you see it, don’t you? Do you know what this might mean?”
I mumble the words on the screen, “Elyssa Rothrock, Governor of Florida, wins New Hampshire primary.”
My stomach drops as though I plunged down the tracks on a roller coaster without wearing a safety bar across my lap. I know exactly what this might mean. I thought when Mom won the Iowa Caucus last week, it was just a fluke and she’d lose the rest of the primaries, but this… this means she might actually have a chance to win her party’s nomination. To run for President of the United States!
“That’s right, Nessa. And with the Iowa Caucus win, this should give me the boost we need to take the lion’s share of primaries in early February.”
This is real.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
How did this happen? When Mom asked if I’d support her running for president, I said yes because I thought it would take her mind off things. I never imagined she actually had a shot at winning the party’s nomination. I mean, Mom’s got two things going against her—boobs! Didn’t anyone bother to tell her she’s a woman, and a woman has never been elected President of the United States, except on TV? I mean, she’s a great governor. But President? She’ll be so busy, I’ll never see her!
“Nessa?”
“I’m here.”
“What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Vanessa!”
I can’t deal with this now. “Did you know I won the school spelling bee today? I’m going to the County Bee.”
“Didn’t you get the flowers I sent?”
I sigh. Mom did send the flowers. “They’re beautiful. I totally love them. Purple is my favorite—”
“Coming Arnie!”
I move the phone from my ear. Arnie is Mom’s campaign manager and spends way more time with her than I do.
“Mom?”
“Looks like we’re both winners today, Nessa!”
Then why do I feel like a loser?