I just found this photo while browsing through some old albums (the kind you can put on your lap, with browning sticky stuff and plastic pages to keep your photos in place). That's my sister and I in the pool at my grandparents' mobile home park, circa 1974.
Can you guess which one is me? Yes, I'm the prim one with hands behind my back, staring in disbelief at my weird little sister. WHAT is she doing? WHY must she be so freaky?
The Ramona and Beezus movie is getting not too terrible reviews, but I'm still dubious. And it's because I was (and am) an anxious, earnest, dorky older sister - a Beezus to the core. And my sis was a Ramona - can't you tell from the photo? I was appalled as a child at what seemed to be her inherent amorality, just as Beezus was furious when Ramona takes one bite from every single apple in the basket (because it's always the first bite of an apple that's the best).
My sister now a talented and esteemed public defender, by the way. And she has two children - an intense, occasionally anxious older daughter and a smart, wild, and crazy younger son. Yep - she's got a MALE Ramona!
Dear Beezus, I LOVE this post, from that funny, telling photo to the literary parallels. Thank you!
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