Otis Spofford
“He was shivering in his undershirt, waiting for his mother to iron him a shirt so he could go skating at the lake. Mrs. Spofford always put off ironing shirts until the last minute. This time Otis couldn’t wear a T-shirt, because she had painted the kitchen cupboards yellow, and somehow both his T-shirts had been used for paint rags.
Worse than being cold, however, was the thought of yesterday—how he cut Ellen’s hair, and the lecture the principal gave him, and how he squirmed on his chair while he had to listen to Mr. Howe telephone Mrs. Tebbits and tell her what had happened to Ellen’s hair.
Otis listened to his mother’s wet finger sizzle against the iron and watched her pull a shirt out of the clothesbasket and unfurl it over the ironing board. “Gee, Mom, can’t you hurry?” he begged. “I want to get to the lake before the crowd.” Otis did not say he was especially anxious to get to the lake because this was his only chance to skate.
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