Mimi Read Online Free

Dig.
    “I’m not so good today, dear,” answers Dag. “Me head is not so good.”
    “Aw, lovey dovey,” says Dig, “are you feeling a bit soft in the head?”
    “I am a bit soft in the head all right.”
    “You should put vinegar in your ears, lovey,” suggests Dig. “I’m told that’s great.”
    “I’d love a cup of tea, dear,” says Dag.
    “You drink too much tea, Dag. That’s the reason why you have such a big yellow nose.”
    “I do not have a yellow nose, Dig!”
    “You do so — it’s big and yellow and snotty like a baboon’s bottom!”
    “Well it’s better than having a big windy backside like you have, Dig,” replies Dag angrily, “blowing out big smellies like the west wind all day!”
    “How dare you say that I’m a stinker, you big hairy monkey!” shouts Dig — and then, quite by accident, I let out a big loud cracker-bum and Emma falls out of the bed laughing and we both have to run out of the room, holding our noses and giggling.
    Sally and Conor and Emmett play on the PlayStation after their homework is done, but not very seriously because mostly they seem to be chatting and laughing.
    At six o’clock Uncle Horace arrives home and his big loud voice booms throughout the house. Uncle Horace is a big hairy man, and wherever he is he seems to fill up the whole room. Aunt B. is always giving it to him, but he just laughs at her. He is the only one I know who is not a little bit afraid of Aunt B.
    Uncle Horace always shakes your hand. His great big paw closes right over my hand and he squeezes.
    “Ow!” I cry.
    “Go easy, Horace,” snaps Aunt B. “You’re hurting the child!”
    “Not at all,” laughs Uncle Horace. “Am I hurting you, Mimi?”
    “Just a little, Uncle Horace,” I say, because I know he doesn’t mean to. When he lets my hand go, my fingers are like squashed sausages. Uncle Horace is a doctor — I feel sorry for his patients.
    We all have dinner at Aunt B.’s. Everybody sits around the table and eats their food with a knife and fork and nobody leaves the table until Aunt B. says so. All through the meal Uncle Horace talks about money, and you never know when he will throw a question at you so you have to stay awake.
    “Conor, you are the great mathematician in the family, I believe, so answer this one if you can!” he booms at Conor. “Let’s say Mimi has ninety-six cents in her pocket.” And he winks at me.
    “I don’t have any money, Uncle Horace,” I say.
    “I know that, Mimi,” he laughs. “Just bear with me! Now she has only one-cent, five-cent, and ten-cent coins, but she has the same number of each. The question is: how many coins has Mimi got in her pocket?”
    “None!” I say, and everyone laughs at me.
    But Conor is puzzling it out, his forehead all wrinkled up. I’m afraid I can’t help him.
    “Let the boy eat his dinner,” says Aunt B.
    Then Emmett says he has the answer, but Conor shouts, “Don’t say it — I want to work it out myself!”
    And he does, too. Conor is very clever.
    “Bravo!” shouts Uncle Horace, and slaps the table.
    After dinner Uncle Horace drives us home in his big Citroën car.
    At home it is still bright and Dad is staring out of the front window. I stand with him, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Do you think she will try and pick it up?” he asks.
    At first I don’t know what he is talking about; then I see a lady walking toward our house and I understand. Before Mammy died, Dad stuck a euro coin onto the pavement with superglue to catch out Uncle Horace.
    “Do you remember Mammy nearly splitting her sides when Uncle Horace tried to pick up the coin?” Dad asks sadly.
    I remember very well. Uncle Horace’s eyes lit up when he saw the coin and then he spent about five minutes trying to pick it up and getting all red in the face. In the end he looked up and saw us all in the front window laughing our heads off.
    The coin is still stuck to the path, and it’s still funny to see people who