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338 pages, Hardcover
First published February 19, 2013
In this short Life
That only lasts an hour
How much–how little–is
Within our power
“Have you ever noticed how Mr. Hall never asks a girl to carry boxes?” I said to Wavey as we walked to the science table. “But he’ll ask us to do easy stuff, like pour water into graduated cylinders.”
“That’s because he thinks we’e too weak and frail to carry boxes.”
“It’s like Mr. Hall is living in that old movie Star Wars, where Princess Leia is waiting to be rescued by Luke and Han Solo, and all she can do is wait because she’s a girl,” I said.
“And then Luke breaks into the jail cell where she is, and she’s all, what took you so long to get here,” said Wavey.
“So he has to explain all the extremely dangerous things he did to get to her,” I told her.
“Which he can do because he’s a guy.”
“Meanwhile,” I said, “Princess Leia finally gets back to the ship, where everything is always in disrepair, mostly because of Han being the type of guy he is.”
“But Mr. Hall, who is Luke, would be like, why don’t you just sit down and rest,” said Wavey.
“Or make coffee,” I added.
“She could make coffee and then paint her nails.”
“While lounging around letting Han carry heavy boxes of spaceship parts,” I said.
“Which he would have because he’d know how to fix anything mechanical,” added Wavey.
“At which point, I said, “Chewie would come in and say something only Han understood.”
“And Han would have to pilot the ship through an enemy attack while at the same time repairing some gauge that their life depended on.”
“And Princess Leia would be letting her nails dry,” I told her.
“While reading a magazine,” said Wavey.
“And pouring sugar into her coffee.”
“This is like that,” Wavey told me.
“I know,” I agreed, filling the last graduated cylinder with ten milliliters of water. “This is exactly like that.”