I've come a long way, baby

This is the first book I ever wrote. Age twelve.













Here's what it says: "Aw, Mom! I'm right in the middle of a keen western and you ask me to dry the dishes. How 'bout Skip, he's not busy?" complained Dixie Johnson, combing her brown fingers through her long blond ponytail.

"Drying dishes isn't a boy's job. Besides, Skip's busy and all you do is sit around the house all day," remarked her mother.

"I wish I was a boy," complained Dixie as she struggled into the kitchen. "Anyway, I do lots more things than Skip. I dust, clean my room, make beds, clean the stables, feed the horses, and so on and so on and so on."



We've come a long way, baby. (Although, come to think of it, I'm still dusting and making beds. Luckily, no stables to clean.)

P.S. Wanna hear something weird? My mother-in-law's name is Dixie. I mean, what are the odds?