bathroom!”
He is such a pain!
I considered spraying him with Mom's cologne or dotting the toilet seat with blue toothpaste blobs. But I just shouted back, “Hold your horses!”
Dad said, “C'mon, guys, let's go exploring!”
I felt like yelling, “I'm not a guy, and I
was
exploring!” But instead I put everything back and opened the door for Matt and said, “Your turn, Bratface.”
Matt took one look at my face and said, “You look stupid.”
I started rubbing off the makeup, but Mom said, “Let me fix you up, Sweet Pea.” She reapplied the lipstick and gave me a French braid.
I thought I looked pretty good if I do say so myself.
Even Dad said I looked cute. Mom knows I'd rather look pretty than cute, but it was still nice of Dad to compliment me.
Anyway, we're about to go exploring. Ready or not,
Dear Diary,
You know that tower Rapunzel was stuck in? Well, in Florence, or
Firenze
(Fee Ren Zay), there's this cool old palace bell tower that points up way above the other churches and buildings, and I can just picture Rapunzel inside it letting down her golden hair. In New York I bet that tower wouldn't even look tall. Old? Yup. Tall? Nope.
We crossed the
Ponte Vecchio
(Pon Tay Vecky Oh), or Old Bridge. It's so old that it was already old when Columbus discovered America! The bridge goes over the Arno River, and it has jewelry shops, ice cream stores, and scarf sellers right on it. Today was cloudy, so the Arno didn't look blue. It looked more like cappuccino and sort of matched the color of the buildings on its banks.
Here's the problem with Florence: the winding streets are too narrow for the traffic and crowds. We spent all day dodging cars, buses, mopeds, motorbikes, and motorcycles, trying not to get run over. At first Mom and Dad were holding hands (which they rarely do in New York), but soon Dad started cursing again (he said H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks twice). He said city drivers are as crazy as highway drivers because they zoom around on motorbikes and don't wear helmets and park on sidewalks and yak on cell phones, and some even have kids riding behind them holding on for dear life.
“Motorbikes are dangerous,” Mom agreed.
“Let's rent one,” Matt said.
“What are you, mental?” I said.
Matt sang, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, what you say is what you are.”
We started arguing, but Dad told us to knock it off. I asked Dad why they built such little streets, and Dad explained that they didn't build them too narrow on purpose, they built them for people, horses, and carts, way before anyone thought about cars or buses.
“Or stretch limos,” I added. “A stretch limo in Florence would get stuck for life.”
Mom said, “Let's go to the
Uffizi
.”
The
Uffizi
(Oo Feet Zee) is a big old museum that is supposed to be a “must-see.” Mom and I waited on the longest longest longest line while Dad and Matt played catch nearby. Even Mom admitted she should have made a reservation, because some people got to cut in line.
Inside, Matt and I played a game he made up called Point Out the Naked People. We ran from painting to painting, and Mom didn't mind because at least we were paying attention to art.
She even took a turn. She pointed out a painting by Botticelli (Bah Ti Chelly) called
The Birth of Venus
. It shows this long-haired lady, the goddess of love and beauty, standing naked on a seashell. Matt said she looked like Barbie with no clothes on, but I said that Venus looked more like a
real
woman.
Mom also showed us a painting by Leonardo da Vinci (Lee Oh Nar Doe Duh Vin Chee). I thought it was lovely. Everyone is dressed, and the angel Gabrielis telling the Virgin Mary that she's pregnant. She wasn't even married to Joseph yet, but it was God's son, so it was a miracle.
I think Italy is full of miracles. I also think Italy is rated R.
Which I can handle. But maybe Mom and Dad should have left Matt at home with a baby-sitter.
Matt got hungry before I did. He said, “Dad, you
R. K. Ryals, Melanie Bruce