On the Lips?

“I figure this house-in-New-Jersey business is my parents’ way of getting me away from Grandma. She doesn’t have a car, she hates buses and she thinks all trains are dirty. So unless Grandma plans to walk, which is unlikely, I won’t be seeing much of her. Now some kids might think, who cares about seeing a grandmother? But Sylvia Simon is a lot of fun, considering her age, which I happen to know is sixty. The only problem is she’s always asking me if I have boyfriends and if they’re Jewish. Now that is ridiculous because number one I don’t have boyfriends. And number two what would I care if they’re Jewish or not?

We hadn’t been in the new house more than an hour when the doorbell rang. I answered. It was this girl in a bathing suit. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Nancy Wheeler. The real estate agent sent out a sheet on you. So I know you’re Margaret and you’re in sixth grade. So am I.” I wondered what else she knew. “It’s plenty hot, isn’t it?” Nancy asked. “Yes,” I agreed. She was taller than me and had bouncy hair. The kind I’m hoping to grow. Her nose turned up so much I could look right into her nostrils. Nancy leaned against the door. “Well, you want to come over and go under the sprinklers?” “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask.” “Okay. I’ll wait.” I found my mother with her rear end sticking out of a bottom kitchen cabinet. She was arranging her pots and pans.

“Hey Mom. There’s a girl here who wants to know if I can go under her sprinklers?” “If you want to,” my mother said. “I need my bathing suit,” I said. “Gads, Margaret! I don’t know where a bathing suit is in this mess.” I walked back to the front door and told Nancy, “I can’t find my bathing suit.” “You can borrow one of mine,” she said. “Wait a second,” I said, running back to the kitchen. “Hey Mom. She says I can wear one of hers. Okay?” “Okay,” my mother mumbled from inside the cabinet. Then she backed out. She spit her hair out of her face. “What did you say her name was?” “Umm … Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.” “Okay. Have a good time,” my mother said.

Nancy lives six houses away, also on Morningbird Lane. Her house looks like mine but the brick is painted white and the front door and shutters are red. “Come on in,” Nancy said. I followed her into the foyer, then up the four stairs leading to the bedrooms. The first thing I noticed about Nancy’s room was the dressing table with the heartshaped mirror over it. Also, everything was very neat. When I was little I wanted a dressing table like that. The kind that’s wrapped up in a fluffy organdy skirt. I never got one though, because my mother likes tailored things. Nancy opened her bottom dresser drawer. “When’s your birthday?” she asked. “March,” I told her. “Great! We’ll be in the same class. There are three sixth grades and they arrange us by age. I’m April.” “Well, I don’t know what class I’m in but I know it’s Room Eighteen. They sent me a lot of forms to fill out last week and that was printed on all of them.”

“I told you we’d be together. I’m in Room Eighteen too.” Nancy handed me a yellow bathing suit. “It’s clean,” she said. “My mother always washes them after a wearing.” “Thank you,” I said, taking the suit. “Where should I change?” Nancy looked around the room. “What’s wrong with here?” “Nothing,” I said. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” “Why should I mind?” “I don’t know.” I worked the suit on from the bottom. I knew it was going to be too big. Nancy gave me the creeps the way she sat on her bed and watched me. I left my polo on until the last possible second. I wasn’t about to let her see I wasn’t growing yet. That was my business.

“Oh, you’re still flat.” Nancy laughed. “Not exactly,” I said, pretending to be very cool. “I’m small boned, is all.” “I’m growing already,” Nancy said, sticking her chest way out. “In a few years I’m going to look like one of those girls in Playboy.” Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t say anything. My father gets Playboy and I’ve seen those girls in the middle. Nancy looked like she had a long way to go. Almost as far as me. “Want me to do up your straps?” she asked. “Okay.” “I figured you’d be real grown up coming from New York. City girls are supposed to grow up a lot faster. Did you ever kiss a boy?” “You mean really kiss? On the lips?” I asked. “Yes,” Nancy said impatiently. “Did you?” “Not really,” I admitted.

Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. “Neither did I.” I was overjoyed. Before she said that I was beginning to feel like some kind of underdeveloped little kid. “I practice a lot though,” Nancy said. “Practice what?” I asked. “Kissing! Isn’t that what we were talking about? Kissing!” “How can you practice that?” I asked. “Watch this.” Nancy grabbed her bed pillow and embraced it. She gave it a long kiss. When she was done she threw the pillow back on the bed. “It’s important to experiment, so when the time comes you’re all ready. I’m going to be a great kisser some day. Want to see something else?” I just stood there with my mouth half open. Nancy sat down at her dressing table and opened a drawer. “Look at this,” she said.

I looked. There were a million little bottles, jars and tubes. There were more cosmetics in that drawer than my mother had all together. I asked, “What do you do with all that stuff?” “It’s another one of my experiments. To see how I look best. So when the time comes I’ll be ready.” She opened a lipstick and painted on a bright pink mouth. “Well, what do you think?” “Umm … I don’t know. It’s kind of bright, isn’t it?”

~ Judy Blume, Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret
“Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret is a 1970 book by Judy Blume, typically categorized as a young adult novel, about a sixth-grade girl who has grown up without a religious affiliation, due to her parents' interfaith marriage. The novel explores her quest for a single religion. Margaret also confronts typical issues faced by pre-teen girls going through puberty, such as buying her first bra, having her first period, and feeling attracted to certain boys. The novel has been frequently challenged since the 1980s due to its frank discussions of sexual and religious topics.

Margaret's exploration of religion leads to conflict with both sides of her family. She enjoys spending time with her Jewish paternal grandmother, who at first seems to accept her for who she is. However, when Margaret attends synagogue in order to see what the Jewish faith entails, her grandmother begins to push Margaret to embrace Judaism, which frustrates Margaret as she feels that religion should not matter if she and her grandmother love each other. Margaret's Christian maternal grandparents, who have been estranged from Margaret and her parents for many years due to their disapproval of interfaith marriage, suddenly decide to visit, but a family argument erupts when they discover that Margaret is not being raised as a Christian. In frustration, Margaret declares that she doesn't believe in God and rejects both parents' religions. She gives up on God and stops talking to him. At the end of her study project, she has not been able to resolve her religious situation as she had hoped, but has learned about herself and become more comfortable with her lack of affiliation. She then gets her first period and, relieved and happy, resumes her previous relationship with God, saying, "I know you're there God. I know you wouldn't have missed this for anything! Thank you God. Thanks an awful lot…"

Judy Blume has said that the character of Margaret was inspired by her own experiences in sixth grade. Like Margaret, Blume did not physically mature at the same rate as her classmates, and tried exercises to get her bust to grow. Like Margaret, Blume also had "a very personal relationship with God". ~ Wikipedia