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How come nobody ever calls me my mother's girl? thinks Ramona. How come Willa Jean gets to tear through a box of tissues, make a dreadful mess, disrupt Mrs. Quimby's brunch, and still be the center of attention–and her grandmother's pet?
When Ramona finally has her mother to herself, her plan to make slakcs for her stuffed elephant goes all wrong, and Ramona is not pleased. When Ramona satisfies a lifelong urge to squeeze all the toothpaste out of a new economy-sized tube, Mother is not pleased. All Ramona really wants is to twitch her nose and be her mother's little rabbit, warm and snug and loved like all the bears and bunnies in the books her mother used to read her at bedtime. Ramona may not be as small as Willa Jean anymore, but that doesn't mean she isn't her mother's girl!
Poor Ramona! Not quite eight, but half past seven, this enthusiastic dynamo is feeling one powerful emotion: unloved. Her older sister, Beezus, seems to do everything right--at least as far as Ramona's mom is concerned. So Ramona gloats just a bit when Beezus causes a stink about not being allowed to visit a professional hair stylist, instead of having her hair cut at home. When Ramona's mom goes back to work, and her dad hates his new job, other frictions visit on the Quimby household, making both girls worry that their parents are headed for divorce. Cleary keeps this book hopping, jumping easily from scenario to scenario. Its success, as in Cleary's other Ramona books, is in pulling our heartstrings and making us laugh. Readers will hoot as Ramona squirts every last drop from a new toothpaste tube--just because she always wanted to. We also see her nearly barf in the backseat of the car, and dye herself and her friend Howie bright blue. But it is when Ramona threatens to run away and her mother helps her pack, that we root hard for little "Nobody likes me!" Ramona. Of course, Mrs. Quimby has a trick up her sleeve: "You tricked me!" cries Ramona. "You made the suitcase too heavy on purpose. You don't want me to run away!" Of course not, says her mother: "I couldn't get along without my Ramona." Neither, I suspect can readers.
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