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All Rights Reserved

Pushed to a Frizzle

Remember that pain-in-the-neck kid in your class who was always jerking her arm into the air and whining, "Let me do it! Let me do it!"?

I never grew out of that.

When the PTA Chair mentioned it was too bad nobody wanted to play the cartoon character for the Book Fair, countless years of frustrated acting ambition erupted out of me. I almost knocked her down grabbing the costume box.

It was my chance, my big break. It wasn't Shakespeare, but it would be the best, darn... I looked at the box. The label read: "Magic School Bus--Ms. Frizzle--Our Universe."

All right then, it would be the best, darn Ms. Frizzle the PTA had ever seen.

I went home and popped some Magic School Bus videos into the VCR. Turns out, Ms. Frizzle is an eccentric teacher who always wears outfits matching her science topic. She drives a magic school bus that transports her class to exotic locales like outer space and the human digestive tract.

Confident I had a handle on her motivation, I opened the costume box. Inside was a red wig and a dress plastered with stars and planets. There were even shoe buckles shaped like Saturn.

Pulling her dress on over my head, I immediately discovered something about Ms. Frizzle I didn't notice in the videos.

Ms. Frizzle was stacked.

You don't often see an hourglass figure like hers anymore. Nowadays the beauty standard is less hourglass and more "candy apple on a stick." Unfortunately, my candy apple is upside down.

I'd need some major planetary bodies to fill out her dress. Digging through my dusty lingerie drawer, I found the Wonder-Bra I'd been too embarrassed to return. It was... insufficient. To say the least.

Time for the sock drawer. Six pairs later, Ms. Frizzle had a proper foundation under her cosmos.

In fact, Ms. Frizzle was looking pretty hot.

When I returned to the Book Fair the other PTA members cheered. Whether applauding me for filling the job they all hated or because they really liked my appearance, I didn't know and I didn't care. Applause can do that to you.

"THANK YOU," Ms. Frizzle boomed. "NOW, CLASS, LET'S-"

"Save it," said the PTA chair. "You're due in kindergarten in five minutes."

In no time I was swamped by a flash flood of ankle-biters. "NOW, CLASS," I boomed, "LET'S-"

"Wow! It's Ms. Frizzle!"

"I wanna ride in the Magic School Bus!"

"I love you, Ms. Frizzle!"

"Ms. Frizzle! Is that lipstick on your teeth?"

I licked my choppers until I got a thumbs up, thanked the kids and moved on. I was a big hit with the first, second and third-graders, too. Flush with success, I headed for the upper elementary playground.

Big mistake.

"Wow! It's Ms. Frizzle!"

"Haw, haw! Sucker!"

"What a dweeb!"

"Ms. Frizzle, is that Jupiter or is that your butt?"

In my haste to escape I collided with two upper grade girls. As I frantically refastened my wig one of them touched the bodice of my dress.

"Where's your bust?" she asked.

"Where do you think?" I snapped. "Under a dozen socks and a Wonder-Bra. Satisfied?" I stomped off.

Two minutes later I realized what she'd really asked me: "Where's your bus?"

Ashamed of myself, I hid in the PTA trailer until my husband picked me up. While he took in the newest wonders in my universe, I blurted out the whole sordid story.

"Hubba, hubba!" he said. "I don't know who you are, but let's hurry back to my place before the wife shows up."

It wasn't Shakespeare, but it was the best, darn pickup line I'd ever heard.

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Dispatches from the Battle of the Bulge:

Dawn of the Peeps,

Use the Force, Ellie Mae,

Mr. Beefcakes Goes for the Burn, and

My Chicharones

Critters who live here, too...


Go Away! Ant that Means YOU,

Babies on Board

PLEASE NOTE: This is my old website. My new website is HERE.

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©2003 Bonnie Wren. All Rights Reserved