by Nigel Smith
But finally it was going well.
“… up and hop and jump and slide and hop,” whispered Nat, reminding Penny what to do, as they reached the tricky bit. “That’s brilliant, Penny!” To her delight Penny was doing it BETTER THAN PERFECTLY when …
“I’ve gotta go,” said Darius, putting the camera down on a hedge, “see you.”
“WHAT? We haven’t finished, you total chimp,” said Nat.
“Then you shouldn’t have taken so long,” said Darius, walking off through the back gate, “I’m busy.”
“Doing what? Where are you going?” Nat shouted after him, but he was gone.
“Just thought I’d see if you two were OK,” said Dad, appearing from a bush, “I was watching you jiggle about and it looked like you’d swallowed space hoppers.”
“THAT’S IT!” yelled Nat, throwing herself on the grass. “I can’t work like this.”
“Ooh, you taking selfies?” said Dad, picking up the camera. “Urgh, why’s this camera all sticky?”
“We are NOT taking selfies,” said Nat, “and I don’t even know why you know about selfies – you’re too old.”
“What are you up to then?” said Dad, adding jokingly, “I hope you’re not thinking of putting anything onto the online inter cyber-space web.”
Nat hadn’t been intending to put her dance video online but she didn’t want to be told she COULDN’T.
“Can if I want,” she said. She wasn’t usually this rude but she was hot and tired and frustrated and scratchy.
“Stop showing off in front of your friend,” said Dad, gently, which was one of the MOST ANNOYING THINGS HE COULD SAY. It was up there with:
You’re only grumpy because you’re tired.
You’re only grumpy because you’re hungry.
You’re only grumpy because you’ve found Nan’s false teeth in the biscuit tin again. AFTER you’ve eaten a Digestive.
“I am NOT showing off, Baldy,” said Nat, showing off. “And this dance routine could get me a million hits and make us lots of money and then you’ll be sorry.”
“You’re very grumpy,” said Dad. “You must be tired. Or possibly hungry. Or have you been in the biscuit tin?”
“You said you wouldn’t show anyone this video,” hissed Penny. “You promised.”
“Why is everyone always telling me what to do?” said Nat.
“Online is a very dangerous place,” said Dad, patiently. “Do you remember when you and Daddy had that talk and Daddy said it was like a big nasty dark cave with monsters in it and you said it sounded very scary and you promised to stay outside the cave forever and ever?”
“Yes, when I was SIX, Dad,” said Nat. Penny sniggered. Nat felt herself getting red in the face.
“Every flipping day!” she yelled, waving her arms about like mad, “you always embarrass me. People are watching, Dad, can’t you be NORMAL?”
With that she ran out of the garden.
And into … fame.
at didn’t get famous IMMEDIATELY; it took her the whole weekend.
And of course it took the power of what Dad annoyingly always called the ‘online inter cyber-space web’ to make her famous.
Nat was blissfully unaware of the fuss she was causing online because, for a start, she had no idea she WAS online …
Plus, the next couple of days she was totally OFFLINE. Mum came home after having been abroad for two weeks, with her new job, and Nat had loads of catching up to do. She never even noticed when the battery on her mobile phone ran out.
And so she missed A LOT of texts from her friends …
Texts like:
OMG!!! LOL. ROFL.
And
YOU ARE SOOOOO FUNNY.
And
HAVE YOU SEEN YOURSELF??????
And
U R A
Most of the catching up with Mum was spent clothes shopping while telling Mum how utterly rubbish Dad had been recently.
The Atomic Dustbin – Dad’s horrible old camper van – had broken down twice picking her up from school and once when he’d volunteered to take the hockey team to an away match.
“We were so late the other team were allowed to start without us and we were 10–0 down before we even got on the pitch,” she complained, making Mum giggle.
Then she revealed Dad had made them pork pie and chips for tea THREE times last week. And it would have been four times but Bad News Nan came round and insisted they have a proper meal with vitamins and then ordered pizzas because cheese counted as veg, near enough.
Mum’s shoulders shook as they picked out tops.
“He does look after you pretty well, though,” chuckled Mum, in the changing rooms. “I mean, compared to being looked after by a trained gorilla.”
“Why are those girls staring at me?” said Nat, noticing a gaggle of gigglers, pointing and sniggering in the shop doorway. “Are my pants showing?”
Mum came out of the changing room and raised her eyebrows at the girls, who took the hint and ran off. Nat LOVED the way Mum could do that. She had seen Mum reduce grown men to quivering jelly by the simple raising of her fearsome eyebrows. Even the policemen who were always telling her off for driving much too fast in her little red car.
Dad couldn’t scare anybody, thought Nat. He only makes people laugh, the big dope. Even when he’s TRYING to be fearsome.
Nat sometimes practised raising her eyebrows at Darius when he was being especially annoying, but he just laughed and said it made her look cross-eyed.
“Can’t you be NORMAL?” shouted one of the girls outside, and the others shrieked with laughter as they took off through the shopping centre.
What a weird bunch of girls, thought Nat. Within five seconds she forgot all about them because Mum said she’d buy her a new pair of flip-flops.
But a similar strange thing happened as they were choosing a DVD to play that night. Nat was having a good-natured argument with Mum as they wrangled over a big disaster movie (Mum’s choice) or a film about girls who win a singing competition and sing a lot (Nat’s choice). Dad wasn’t there; he was just going to have to watch what he was told.
Nat couldn’t figure out how she knew, but she suddenly became aware of a couple of boys over by the comic book films who were sniggering and looking over at her. She glared at them and they slunk off.
“People are watching,” one said, for no apparent reason.
But, yet again, Nat soon forgot all about it because she heard Mum say she was going to the bath bomb shop next.
It was only late on Sunday night, in bed, snuggled in and smelling of crème brulee bath bomb that Nat plugged her phone in and was instantly greeted by a million bongs that told her SHE HAD MESSAGES.
So finally, she read them …
Also by Nigel Smith
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Praise for Nathalia Buttface
Check out these great reviews from Lovereading4kids:
“The plot was hilarious and the ending was brilliant and unexpected.” Eloise Mae, age 11
“I couldn’t stop laughing.” Sam, age 10
“This book made me laugh out loud many times and I didn’t want it to end.” Lily, age 9
“One of the funniest books I’ve read … Seriously hilarious!” Abigail, age 11
“I rate this book five stars because it is so funny and really cool.” Jenny, age 8
“This book is hilarious, amazing and gives me an embarrassing feeling on behalf of Nathalia!” Elspeth, age 9
“Nathalia Bumolé is one of the unluckiest kids ever, and most of it is her dad’s fault!” Elise Marie, age 9 ½
“Makes me glad my dad is nothing like this dad, although he is still very embarrassing.” Emma, age 7
About the Author
Nigel Smith has been a journalist, busker, TV comedy producer and script writer, winning an award for his BBC 4 radio comedy, Vent. More importantly, he has been – and still is – an
embarrassing dad. Much like Nathalia Buttface, his three children are continually mortified by his ill-advised shorts, comedic hats, low-quality jokes, poorly chosen motor vehicles, unique sense of direction and unfortunate ukulele playing. Unlike his hero, Ivor Bumolé, he doesn’t write Christmas cracker jokes for a living. Yet. This is Nigel’s second book about Nathalia Buttface.
About the Publisher
Australia
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HarperCollins Canada
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United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
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London, SE1 9GF
http://www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
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New York, NY 10007
http://www.harpercollins.com