In my own house, each day was a perfectly contained lineup of hours where nothing unusual or unsettling was ever said. Mary Jane’s own family is straight-laced – her mother is a homemaker her father has a portrait of Nixon on the wall, and reads the newspaper during dinner each night and family outings are to church, where Mary Jane sings in the choir. Mary Jane by Jessica Anya Blau is a coming-of-age novel about fourteen-year-old Mary Jane, who has a summer job babysitting for a local family, the Cones. Seems small in the retelling but the audacity of the stickers and ice cream left an impression. My mum would have cracked it (and sent me back out for bread). On our return, her mother rolled her eyes, as if no bread was expected. My friend immediately informed me that we would spend the money on things other than bread – we went to the toy shop and bought scratch’n’sniff stickers, and the milk bar for ice creams.
One took place when I visited a friend for the day, and her mother sent us to the shops for bread for lunch. Do you remember a time in your childhood when you went to someone else’s house and you realised that their family life was completely different to yours? I have a few such memories.
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