And now how am I going to make her listen to me? I’d scale that monster sycamore if I could. Right to the top. And I’d yell her name across the rooftops for the whole world to hear. And since you know what a tree-climbing weenie I am, I think it’s pretty clear that I’m willing to do anything to get her to talk to me. Man, I’ll dive after her into a chicken coop full of poop if that’s what it takes. I’ll ride my bike all the stinkin’ way to school for the rest of eternity if it means being with her.
