She's done stuff like this: Snook saw that I sent a card to this kid, Matthew, cuz I heard he was sick. So she sends a fancier one, just to outdo me, and she writes this highbrow note:
"My name is Snook, more fondly known as Snookie. I learned of your malady from KittyCat, who—hmm—actually my dignity prevents my speaking further of such a ruffian.
I selected this lovely antique card especially for you, and it is sent with a most heartfelt wish that you’ll feel better soon.
Sheesh! Does that make you want to puke, or what?
At home Mom laughs telling Dad about people who say mean stuff. “For a writer, it’s all fodder,” she says. I finally learned what fodder means. Snook gives me fodder, but to make sure supplies don’t run out, sometimes I give things a bit of a nudge.
I got lots more to say about Snook, but I feel like I’m getting a nudge. Mom turned on the rug-eating monster in the next room. Earlier she plopped sheets and towels in a laundry basket, so guess I’ll crash on top of the dirty laundry.