October 12, 1929
Last night, Mom and Dad REALLY fought. Dad got so mad, he started yelling just as bad as Mom. There was such a tantrum, that Mom decided she would go away and never come back. I was afraid for Dad and Mom, because Dad gets beaten up by Mom and Mom can't drive when she's drunk. So she staggered out into the night (I could see her through my window) and she got on a bus. I haven't seen her since. So now, I'm kinda happy that she's gone, because now Dad has been whistling, which means he's happy. That makes everyone happy. I told my best friend, Anita, what had happened, and she gave me a you've-got-to-be-kidding look. I told her I wasn't kidding, and she got this funny look on her face, like she wasn't quite sure what had just happened. I keep thinking about how Mom used to tuck me into bed when I was littler. I can remember her hair in my face as she kissed me goodnight. I can remember her delicate, tinkly laugh--all of this before she started drinking, of course. Well, I have to go to bed now, but I can't wait until tomorrow--I always have fun on Fridays. Good night.
