Melanie Martin Goes Dutch (24 page)

Dear Diary,

Matt woke us up way early because he was soooo excited that the tooth fairy found him all the way in Amster Amster Dam Dam Dam.

He showed us all his loot, and under his pillow, along with all the coins, there was a crisp American dollar bill! And his tooth was
nowhere
to be seen!

I for one did
not
take away his tooth. Mostly because it didn't occur to me. Even if it had, I wouldn't have known what to do with it. Chuck it in the garbage?
Keep it for all time? It's not like I have a collection of baby teeth. Especially not little-brother ones with ittybitty specks of dried blood on them.

Anyway, Matt is smiling as wide as can be. I must admit, he looks pretty cute with that gap where his tooth used to be.

I wish he hadn't woken us up so so so early, but for him it must feel like Christmas morning. He said he thinks the tooth fairy gave him more than one kind of money because his tooth was loose in more than one country.

Mom and Dad are still fast asleep in their room, so Cecily and I told Matt to go back to sleep too. He said he'd try. But first he danced twice around the room with DogDog. He says DogDog won't stop licking him!

Good night and good morning!

P.S.

(But don't count on it—hee hee!)

Dear Diary,

Mom tiptoed in while Cecily and Matt were still asleep. I waved, and she looked right at me, and then Matt, and she blew me
een, twee, drie
kisses. I whispered that I wanted to ask her something. We went into her room and Dad was shaking a tower, so I snuggled into bed with Mom. She said she loved me and that's when I asked, “How do you
know
you're healthy?”

“I know because I get regular check-ups called mammograms.”

“So you promise you're okay?”

“Pumpkin, I take good care of myself. But that's not
the kind of thing anyone can promise because life does not come with guarantees.”

I wish it did.

TVs do.

I'm glad I was able to ask her, though.

Anne Frank wasn't able to ask her mom personal questions. She and her mom did not get along well. She and her dad did. And Anne hoped that someday she'd be a good “mumsie” herself.

Today we're going to Anne Frank's house. It is now a museum called the Anne
Frank Huis
(Anna Frahnk House). I've read some more of her diary—by myself and with Mom. So far, Anne has been cooped up for
over a year and a half
. She wrote that when she looks out the window, all she sees are raincoats and hats and the tops of people's umbrellas. And that she misses good food and new books and the smell of fresh air. And that she feels like a “songbird whose wings have been clipped.”

Reading her diary makes me feel guilty for ever saying I was bored and for not always appreciating my plain old regular life. Just yesterday, I signed off,
“Melanie, A Culture Vulture with Tired Wings.” But think about it: Tired wings are no fun, but clipped wings are so much worse!

I have decided never to complain or feel sorry for myself again for the rest of my life.

Dear Diary,

Breakfast today was
We went down stairs and they ran out of cereal, so there was just grainy bread and gross cheese and gooshy yogurt.

Even the Dutch word for breakfast is stupid. It's
ontbijt
(Ont Baid). Lunch is spelled
lunch
(Lunch) and dinner is
diner
(Dee Nay). But
ontbijt
! What kind of a dumb word is—

Oops.

I forgot about not complaining.

Anne Frank once got a bottle of yogurt as a holiday present and considered it a big deal.

I
am
trying to be a better person. But it doesn't happen overnight (or overmorning).

P.S. If I do have a little badness inside me, I wonder if there's a way to get rid of it so it doesn't grow back.