FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 1944
My dearest darling, Everything turned out all right after all; Bep just had a sore throat, not the flu,
and Mr. Kugler got a medical certificate to excuse him from the work detail.
The entire Annex breathed a huge sigh of relief. Everything's fine here!
Except that Margot and I are rather tired of our parents.
Don't get me wrong. I still love Father as much as ever and Margot loves both Father and Mother,
but when you're as old as we are, you want to make a few decisions for yourself, get out from under their thumb.
Whenever I go upstairs, they ask what I'm going to do, they won't let me salt my food,
Mother asks me every evening at eight-fifteen if it isn't time for me to change into my nighty, and they have to approve every book I read.
I must admit, they're not at all strict about that and let me read nearly everything,
but Margot and I are sick and tired of having to listen to their comments and questions all day long.
There's something else that displeases them: I no longer feel like giving them little kisses morning, noon and night.
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