What a dope! Mama gave me another one of her dreadful sermons this morning.
We take the opposite view of everything. Daddy's a sweetheart; he may get mad at me, but it never lasts longer than five minutes.
It's a beautiful day outside, nice and hot, and in spite of everything,
we make the most of the weather by lounging on the folding bed in the attic. Yours, Anne
COMMENT ADDED BY ANNE ON SEPTEMBER 21, 1942: Mr. van Daan has been as nice as pie to me recently.
I've said nothing, but have been enjoying it while it lasts.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1942
Dearest Kitty, Mr. and Mrs. van Daan have had a terrible fight.
I've never seen anything like it, since Mother and Father wouldn't dream of shouting at each other like that.
The argument was based on something so trivial it didn't seem worth wasting a single word on it. Oh well, to each his own.
Of course, it's very difficult for Peter, who gets caught in the middle, but no one takes Peter seriously anymore, since he's hypersensitive and lazy.
Yesterday he was beside himself with worry because his tongue was blue instead of pink. This rare phenomenon disappeared as quickly as it came.
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