By Lisa Graff
so far as Georgie is anxious, everybody has a ''thing''
the object approximately poodles is that Georgie Bishop hates to stroll them.
the article approximately Jeanie the Meanie is that she might really write on her shoe than aid Georgie with their Abraham Lincoln undertaking.
the object approximately Andy's nonna is that she kisses Georgie's cheeks and does not communicate one be aware of English.
the article approximately Georgie's mother is that she's having a baby—a child who will be taller than Georgie very, very quickly.
the object approximately Georgie . . . good, what's the factor approximately Georgie?
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Extra info for The Thing About Georgie
I think she’s okay,” Georgie said. “They’re just checking Baby G—” He stopped himself in time. ” Mrs. Moretti gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said. Andy poked his head out of his bedroom door. ” he cried. ” Georgie couldn’t believe how different Andy’s room looked from the day before. The bed had been moved closer to the door and was covered by a fraying gray quilt. The dresser was piled with antique-looking bottles. And all of Andy’s Frantic Fusion posters had been crammed together in one corner above the rollaway bed that now stood against the far wall.
Every year on his birthday Georgie marked how tall he was. And every year Georgie noticed that the marks were getting closer together. Georgie was still growing, but barely. He stood against the wall, back straight as an 47 arrow, and marked above his head with the pencil. Then he turned around and looked. Forty-two inches. Same as before. Exactly the same. He’d hadn’t grown a centimeter since August. Georgie gripped the pencil hard, and kneeling down, he drew another tiny mark, six and a half inches up the wall.
Just don’t lose it, and don’t forget where it is. It’s important. Georgie decided that if his parents were going to go do something stupid like have another kid, a kid who would probably end up as huge as Godzilla, he definitely was not going to spend his hard-earned dogwalking money to buy them a Christmas present. They were going to have to settle for a nice poem under the tree this year. Georgie sat himself down at the desk in his room, the one his parents had ordered out of a special catalog, that was just his size and went perfectly with the short chair, so his feet could touch the floor while he wrote.