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Zusatztext “In this sequel to Lulu and the Brontosaurus (S & S! 2010)! the incorrigible Lulu! oft indulged by her parents! is desperate for ways to make money to pay for a mysterious something that they absolutely cannot afford…hilarious narration with much editorial wisecracking and frequent asides directed to readers. The story moves along quickly! variations in page layout and typeface add interest! and Smith’s stylized black-and-white drawings are a big part of the fun. A perfect choice for transitional readers.” Informationen zum Autor Judith Viorst is the author of the beloved Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, which has sold some four million copies; the Lulu books, including Lulu and the Brontosaurus; the New York Times bestseller Necessary Losses; four musicals; and poetry for children and adults. Her most recent books of poetry include What Are You Glad About? What Are You Mad About? and Nearing Ninety. She lives in Washington, DC. Klappentext In this stand-alone sequel to "Lulu and the Brontosaurus!" industry legends Viorst and Smith once again prove that even the loudest! rudest! and most obstinate of girls can win readers over. Full color. Lulu—remember Lulu?—used to always be a big pain, till she met Mr. B, a lovely brontosaurus. Now she is just a sometimes pain, and not nearly as rude as before. But unless what she wants is utterly, totally, absolutely, and no-way-José impossible, she’s still a girl who wants what she wants when she wants it. So, what is it, exactly, that our Lulu wants? Right now I’m just saying it costs a lot of money. Furthermore, her mom and her dad, who give her almost everything she asks for, said to her—with many sighs and sorries—that they couldn’t afford to buy it for her and that she would HAVE TO EARN THE MONEY TO GET IT. Lulu thought about throwing one of her famous screeching, heel-kicking, arm-waving tantrums, except that—since her last birthday—she wasn’t doing that baby stuff anymore. So, instead, she tried some other ways—politer, quieter, sneakier, grown-upper ways—of changing their minds. First try: “Why are you being so cruel to me, to your only child, to your dearest, darlingest Lulu?” “We’re not being cruel,” her mom explained in an I’m-so-sorry voice. “You’re still our dearest and darlingest. But we don’t have the money to spend on things like that.” Second try: “I’ll eat only one meal a day and also never go to the dentist, and then you can use all that money you saved to buy it for me.” “Dentists and food are much more important,” Lulu’s dad explained, “than this thing that you want. Which means”—and here he sighed heavily—“that if you really still want it, you’re going to have to pay for it yourself.” Really still want it? Of course she really still wanted it! She was ALWAYS and FOREVER going to want it. But paying for it herself—that might be utterly and totally, plus absolutely and no-way-José, impossible. So she kept on trying to change their minds, making her saddest and maddest and baddest faces and giving her mom and her dad some unbeatable arguments. Like, “I’ll move down into the basement, and you’ll get the money by renting out my bedroom.” Or, “You could get money by selling our car and taking the bus instead, which would also be much better for the environment.” But, great as her arguments were, her mom and her dad kept saying no and sighing and sorrying. And after her sixteenth or seventeenth try, Lulu was starting to feel a little discouraged. Last try: “So, while all the other kids are playing and laughing and having fun, I’ll be the only kid my age earning money?” “Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Lulu’s mom. “That little Fleischman down the street is always earning money by doing helpful chores for folks in the neighborhood. So young and already such a hard-working boy!” ...
