Margot doesn't need it, since she's naturally good, kind and clever, perfection itself, but I seem to have enough mischief for the two of us.
More than once the air has been filled with the van Daans' admonitions and my saucy replies.
Father and Mother always defend me fiercely. Without them I wouldn't be able to jump back into the fray with my usual composure.
They keep telling me I should talk less, mind my own business and be more modest, but I seem doomed to failure.
If Father weren't so patient, I'd have long ago given up hope of ever meeting my parents' quite moderate expectations.
If I take a small helping of a vegetable I loathe and eat potatoes instead,
the van Daans, especially Mrs. van Daan, can't get over how spoiled I am.
“Come on, Anne, eat some more vegetables,” she says. “No, thank you, ma'am,” I reply. “The potatoes are more than enough.”
“Vegetables are good for you; your mother says so too. Have some more,” she insists,
until Father intervenes and upholds my right to refuse a dish I don't like.
Then Mrs. van D. really flies off the handle: “You should have been at our house, where children were brought up the way they should be.
I don't call this a proper upbringing. Anne is terribly spoiled. I'd never allow that. If Anne were my daughter...”
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