Dad’s hair is getting thinner. I noticed it today when he bowed down to untie his shoelaces. He’s getting this bald patch on the back of his head. My future is looking grim. I’m thinking about growing my hair while I’ve still got it. Maybe I can make a wig from my hair eventually, just in case I grow bald. Then by the time I am starting to turn bald, I can just put on my wig and tell everybody that it’s my real hair. Why hadn’t Dad thought of that when he still could? I wonder if Mum has noticed it already and what she thinks about it. As long as she doesn’t turn bald I still have a chance.
What I haven’t told you yet is that the word is out: Mrs Williams is getting a divorce. I wonder if she is going to marry Mr Owen next. I really kind of doubt it, because – as I said earlier – he is the ‘happy single’ and I don’t think he’d want to give that single-ness up for a (bad word) like Mrs Williams. He is way too attached to his freedom. Besides, why would you want to get married right after a divorce? I bet Mr Williams is not going to support her financially after having been cheated on by her. Who knows whom else she’s been seeing besides Mr Owen, being the flirter she is. For some reason I feel she doesn’t deserve to be loved by so many men.
Talking about love. I have decided to tell Mum and Dad about Evelyn this weekend. Evelyn agreed on this. She still hasn’t told her parents either. So, we’re both telling them this weekend. We’ll report to each other on Monday how it went. We are not very good with telephones, because that would involve talking in real life more or less. It’s amazing how two people can say so much without words. I think it must be love.
My birthday is just around the corner. I’ll be turning 15, which means I still can’t do anything. I told Mum and Dad I’d rather not have a party like Grandma’s. Maybe we could just invite some of the saner relatives (with the exception of Grandma) and that’s it. If I’m lucky Evelyn could come over and celebrate with us, but let’s not get my hopes up or push my luck.
I phoned Grandma yesterday to tell her that I’d love to get a ticket to the London Dungeon. She insisted that it was called the Batcave and that is was to be a secret and nobody was to know about its whereabouts except for Batman and Robin. At first I had no idea what she was going on about and then I tried to convince her I was Batman, but to no avail. In the end we kind of agreed on the fact that we were both a bit batty, but not batty enough to be called Batman. I’ll try again next week.
We’re getting a new neighbour this weekend. The house opposite our house has been sold to this elderly lady (don’t ask me how old). I haven’t seen her yet, but Mum has. She’s called Unice or something and ‘Even though it has “nice” in it,’ Mum says,’ does not mean she looks very friendly.’ I don’t know if you’ve ever read the book ‘Witches’, but the way Mum described her to me I had a bad feeling about this. We’ll see this weekend. Let’s enjoy a nice quiet evening with a lovely film and some homework. See me tomorrow.