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Chapter Seventy-Eight
The nation was in an uproar.
It was bad enough that gas prices were so astronomical that whole industries had collapsed and the entire American lifestyle was all but shattered. It was horrendous and horrifying that they were entangled in a seemingly endless war overseas where their soldiers were ordered to shoot at children. But the fact that their own citizens had gone so far as to antagonize a helpless, all-American child while he was at school, when he was too young to even understand what was happening in the world… That was beyond unacceptable. How could this go on?
The nation was still divided, but what and where those divisions were was no longer clear. No one claimed that it was acceptable to hold a war protest outside of a school and direct it at a student with a loved one overseas, but there were subtle differences in the rhetoric surrounding this atrocity. “Attacking our children reduces these protesters to the same level as our enemies” meant something much different from “These protesters have sunk to the same level as the very thing they’re protesting.”
Some political commentators felt the incident was proof that the country’s involvement in the war and the fuel crisis had clouded—if not destroyed—all sense of judgment and justice, and that was why this blasphemy had occurred; therefore, the best and quickest way to ensure the safety of innocent American children was to withdraw from the war immediately. Others insisted that America could not afford to be bullied by a handful of cowards who went so low as to threaten young students.
While debate and discussion ensued, families across the country came forward to tell how they, too, had been antagonized or discriminated against because they had a parent, child, or spouse who had enlisted or been drafted.
“This is criminal,” said one politician on the campaign trail—a senator whose chances of re-election were slim because he supported the war. “These families are already sacrificing so much so that their loved ones can serve our country and defend the basic civil liberties that every individual should have. We, as Americans, as citizens of this nation and this world, should be thanking our soldiers and their families! Remember when we were grateful to our troops? No matter what we feel about the war itself, our men and women in uniform and their families deserve our support!”
As the first family to have come forward about the discrimination against military families, the Muppets were being hounded for interviews. Everyone particularly wanted to talk to Robin, and while the Muppets shielded him as best they could, his biological family was understandably concerned.
“How is he holding up, with all the pressure? Is he alright?” Mom the Frog asked over the phone one day when Robin was at school.
“He seems to be okay. We’re taking care of him,” Rowlf said.
“He takes after his uncle,” Fozzie said fondly. “He wants to give an interview.”
Mom laughed. “Oh, heavens to Betsy. Are you going to let him?”
“We haven’t decided. We wanna talk to his parents about it, first,” Rowlf said.
“Mm-hm, and then we have to decide who to give the interview to… and how many of us will be sitting next to him during it,” Miss Piggy said firmly.
“And which of you will be sitting with him, I’m sure. I would guess most of you will want to,” Mom said.
“Yup, probably,” Scooter said.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll take care of him there… But I do think with all that’s been going on, he ought to have some time at home in the swamp, when school’s out for the year.”
The Muppets hesitantly looked at each other for a moment.
“Well… Yeah, that—that probably would be best for him…” Scooter said reluctantly.
“The trouble is that vous might have a hard time convincing us to let Robin out of our sight, Mom,” Miss Piggy said gently.
“Oh, well I never said anything about THAT,” Mom the Frog said. “You’re all invited to come, too, you know. Anyone who calls me Mom or Grandma is plenty welcome here.”
Again, the Muppets were strangely quiet for a moment. “…So, anyone except for Rowlf?” Clifford said.
Mom laughed. “Anyone who is SUPPOSED to call me Mom or Grandma, then!”
“You do know that we can be really destructive, right?” Fozzie asked nervously. “We might not be good for the swamp…”
“Oh, of course I know that, but you’re family. Just make sure Harry leaves his detonator at home, and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
They laughed, and Rowlf shook his head. “You’re a brave woman, Mrs. the Frog,” he said.
“Rowlf, when you raise as many children as I have, you HAVE to be brave. Besides, all these frogs who have been calling you for months would like to meet you face to face. And if Robin comes for a visit, he’ll have a chance to see his Uncle Greg before—oh… fiddlesticks.”
The Muppets straightened up. “Has Greg decided to enlist, after all?” Miss Piggy asked.
Mom sighed. “He wanted to tell you himself. I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But, now that I’ve gone and opened my mouth, and you’ve already figured it out… Yes, Greg is going to enlist. He’s more physically fit than Noah, so he doesn’t think it will be an issue.”
They sighed. “I don’t suppose he’s given any reasoning?” Rowlf asked.
“Oh, yes. I’ll let him explain all that himself.” Mom let out a heavy sigh. “But, all that aside. Are all of you coming here for a visit after the school year, or do I have to brag about my cooking to convince you?”
“I’ll help ya out here, Mrs. the Frog,” Rowlf said, and he turned to the other Muppets. “Her cooking’s delicious. Besides that, it’s edible. Any questions?”
Fozzie addressed his question to the phone. “Do you have any recipes without insects?”
Mom laughed. “Oh, plenty! And I know how to adjust the ones that do have insects, too. Now, how much more persuading do you need? Should I have Maggie call you, too? She’s got quite the talent at arm-twisting.”
“We’d better just agree, guys,” Rowlf said. “Mrs. the Frog is just as stubborn as Kermit, and Maggie’s even worse.”
“I’m just concerned about the safety of the swamp,” Scooter said. “But Mom, if you’re sure…”
“Oh, I’m sure, Scooter!” Mom said. “And Rowlf is right on the nose about my persistence. Dad’s rubbed off on me over the years.”
“Mom, do vous have any beds in the swamp?” Miss Piggy asked.
Mom laughed. “We’ll figure something out,” she promised. “And it sounds like I’ll be seeing you in a couple weeks!”
The Muppets knew there was no getting out of coming to the swamp at that point—and really, they didn’t want to get out of it. A visit to the swamp was, perhaps, exactly what the doctor ordered.
Betty Sue Rivers was glad the school year was almost over. Of course, that meant she would have to spend more time at home, trying to avoid her father… but she could spend more time with Craig, too, and maybe he would let her help with some of the fundraising he’d been doing. Unfortunately, all the talk about discrimination against military families wasn’t doing much to gain support for the war. As she ate her lunch, rather than looking over the notes for her next class, she kept a pencil in her hand and tried to think of some new ideas to raise funds for the war effort.
“THERE you are, Betty Sue!” Stacey shoved her books and her lunch onto the table as she rushed forward, then halted all her momentum to glance over her shoulder and slowly sit down as gracefully as she could, just in case any boys were looking. “You will never believe what jest happened!” she said excitedly, brown eyes sparkling as she smoothed her chestnut hair against one shoulder.
Betty Sue set her pencil down and sighed at her best friend. “Alright, what jest happened?”
Stacey’s hands danced into the air and flattened themselves on the table. “Amber Jacobsen jest invited both of us to her party. Look! I got the invitations right here!” She flung open her algebra textbook and pulled out two pieces of paper. “See?”
Betty Sue wasn’t impressed. “Stacey, she told us a month ago she was gonna invite us.”
“That was before her parents said she could invite boys,” Stacey said, and she started unwrapping her lunch. “It’s only two weeks away, Betty Sue. That doesn’t give us much time. We’ve gotta figure out our hair, and get some new clothes, and I’ll see I can convince my sister to let us use some of her makeup and show us how to put it on.”
“Jest because there’s gonna be boys there?” Betty Sue raised an eyebrow and bit into her sandwich.
“Not jest any boys, Betty Sue! Amber says she’s invitin’ the whole track team. And Adam is gonna be there.”
Betty Sue knit her brows together. “Who’s Adam?”
Stacey sighed and rolled her eyes. “Adam Castle! The boy who can’t take his eyes offa you in science class!”
“Oh, him.”
“Oh, him? Betty Sue, he is the cutest boy in the whole school!”
Betty Sue nearly laughed. “Stacey, you think every boy is the cutest boy in school.”
“That ain’t true,” Stacey argued.
“Oh, yes it is. Last week, you couldn’t stop talkin’ ‘bout Tony What’s-his-face…”
“Tony Abrams. And you still haven’t even looked at him, have you?”
“The week before that, it was Michael Whoever…”
“Michael Williams, and I never said he was cute. I said he was hot. There is a very big difference.”
“I see,” Betty Sue said skeptically.
“It’s true!” Stacey insisted, and she fanned herself with her hand. “That boy could melt a glacier,” she sighed.
Betty Sue shook her head. “I can’t say I’ve noticed.”
Stacey let out a frustrated huff. “I swear, Betty Sue, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you was either blind, you hadn’t reached puberty yet!” Then something occurred to her, and she leaned in close. “Or are ya jest not into men?” she whispered. “Is that it? Because you can tell me, Betty Sue. I wouldn’t judge ya fer that.”
With quite a bit of difficulty, Betty Sue managed to keep a straight face. “Stacey Melissa Lee,” she said solemnly, “Have you never seen me watch absolutely anything that stars Ashton Kutcher?”
Stacey thought about this, blinked, and then laughed. “Well, I dunno, Betty Sue. Have you ever remained conscious when Ashton Kutcher was on the screen?” she teased. “Alright, so you like Ashton Kutcher. Adam sorta looks like Ashton Kutcher…”
“Who’s Adam?” Betty Sue asked, this time just to fluster her friend, which worked quite well. She laughed.
“My point is, Betty Sue, we gotta figure out what to wear and how to do our hair for the party!” Stacey said. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout my red butterfly shirt, but I was already gonna wear that for the graduation dance. An’ besides, I don’t have a good necklace to go with it. I think we oughta go shopping, is what I think. Besides, none of your clothes bring out your eyes. You oughta wear somethin’ blue for the party. That’s good for your eyes. And then if we get some new clothes, we can get some nice jewelry to go with ‘em. I saw some earrings at the mall the other day that would be jest perfect with that new dress we was lookin’ at in the last issue of Seventeen.”
Betty Sue had all but stopped listening. “Stacey, how can ya even think about buyin’ all that junk? Ya never wear any of it more than once, anyway.”
Stacey blinked and stared at her friend. “It ain’t junk,” she said. “It’s called accessorizing, Betty Sue. It’s important!”
“It’s a waste of money, is what it is,” Betty Sue said. “Did ya ever even think about givin’ that money to the troops? Nobody really needs all those accessories. And did ya think about how much fuel it takes to get the merchandise here?” She pulled her long braid off of her neck and let it hang over her shoulder. “If it weren’t for the war and the gas prices, then maybe we could afford to care about somethin’ as—as—trivial as jewelry. But it’s more important to help our soldiers. Ever think of that?”
Stacey sat back and let her hands settle in her lap. Her friend’s speech and the fire behind it had quieted her considerably. “No, Betty Sue, I hadn’t thought of all that,” she said humbly. “Y’know I don’t pay much attention to all that political stuff… But I guess yer right. It couldn’t hurt to help the soldiers.”
Betty Sue nodded and glanced at the half-forgotten invitations. She frowned at the date and time. “Shucks… I can’t go to that party, anyway, Stacey. Craig’s doin’ a fundraiser then.”
Stacey looked surprised. “What’s that got to do with you?”
Betty Sue gave her a pointed look. “I am goin’ to my brother’s fundraiser, that’s what,” she said firmly. Then she shook her head. “I’ll have to call Amber tonight and give her my regrets.”
Stacey sighed and let her shoulders slump, dropping her chin into her hand. “You may have a point about payin’ more attention, Betty Sue, but I wish ya wouldn’t take life so seriously. We’re jest kids, really. We ain’t even in high school quite yet.”
Betty Sue quietly packed up what was left of her lunch. She thought about all the beer her father kept in the house these days, and the trauma her brother tried to pretend he didn’t have. “Life is serious, Stacey,” she whispered. “We ain’t kids no more.”
The nation was in an uproar.
It was bad enough that gas prices were so astronomical that whole industries had collapsed and the entire American lifestyle was all but shattered. It was horrendous and horrifying that they were entangled in a seemingly endless war overseas where their soldiers were ordered to shoot at children. But the fact that their own citizens had gone so far as to antagonize a helpless, all-American child while he was at school, when he was too young to even understand what was happening in the world… That was beyond unacceptable. How could this go on?
The nation was still divided, but what and where those divisions were was no longer clear. No one claimed that it was acceptable to hold a war protest outside of a school and direct it at a student with a loved one overseas, but there were subtle differences in the rhetoric surrounding this atrocity. “Attacking our children reduces these protesters to the same level as our enemies” meant something much different from “These protesters have sunk to the same level as the very thing they’re protesting.”
Some political commentators felt the incident was proof that the country’s involvement in the war and the fuel crisis had clouded—if not destroyed—all sense of judgment and justice, and that was why this blasphemy had occurred; therefore, the best and quickest way to ensure the safety of innocent American children was to withdraw from the war immediately. Others insisted that America could not afford to be bullied by a handful of cowards who went so low as to threaten young students.
While debate and discussion ensued, families across the country came forward to tell how they, too, had been antagonized or discriminated against because they had a parent, child, or spouse who had enlisted or been drafted.
“This is criminal,” said one politician on the campaign trail—a senator whose chances of re-election were slim because he supported the war. “These families are already sacrificing so much so that their loved ones can serve our country and defend the basic civil liberties that every individual should have. We, as Americans, as citizens of this nation and this world, should be thanking our soldiers and their families! Remember when we were grateful to our troops? No matter what we feel about the war itself, our men and women in uniform and their families deserve our support!”
As the first family to have come forward about the discrimination against military families, the Muppets were being hounded for interviews. Everyone particularly wanted to talk to Robin, and while the Muppets shielded him as best they could, his biological family was understandably concerned.
“How is he holding up, with all the pressure? Is he alright?” Mom the Frog asked over the phone one day when Robin was at school.
“He seems to be okay. We’re taking care of him,” Rowlf said.
“He takes after his uncle,” Fozzie said fondly. “He wants to give an interview.”
Mom laughed. “Oh, heavens to Betsy. Are you going to let him?”
“We haven’t decided. We wanna talk to his parents about it, first,” Rowlf said.
“Mm-hm, and then we have to decide who to give the interview to… and how many of us will be sitting next to him during it,” Miss Piggy said firmly.
“And which of you will be sitting with him, I’m sure. I would guess most of you will want to,” Mom said.
“Yup, probably,” Scooter said.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll take care of him there… But I do think with all that’s been going on, he ought to have some time at home in the swamp, when school’s out for the year.”
The Muppets hesitantly looked at each other for a moment.
“Well… Yeah, that—that probably would be best for him…” Scooter said reluctantly.
“The trouble is that vous might have a hard time convincing us to let Robin out of our sight, Mom,” Miss Piggy said gently.
“Oh, well I never said anything about THAT,” Mom the Frog said. “You’re all invited to come, too, you know. Anyone who calls me Mom or Grandma is plenty welcome here.”
Again, the Muppets were strangely quiet for a moment. “…So, anyone except for Rowlf?” Clifford said.
Mom laughed. “Anyone who is SUPPOSED to call me Mom or Grandma, then!”
“You do know that we can be really destructive, right?” Fozzie asked nervously. “We might not be good for the swamp…”
“Oh, of course I know that, but you’re family. Just make sure Harry leaves his detonator at home, and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
They laughed, and Rowlf shook his head. “You’re a brave woman, Mrs. the Frog,” he said.
“Rowlf, when you raise as many children as I have, you HAVE to be brave. Besides, all these frogs who have been calling you for months would like to meet you face to face. And if Robin comes for a visit, he’ll have a chance to see his Uncle Greg before—oh… fiddlesticks.”
The Muppets straightened up. “Has Greg decided to enlist, after all?” Miss Piggy asked.
Mom sighed. “He wanted to tell you himself. I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But, now that I’ve gone and opened my mouth, and you’ve already figured it out… Yes, Greg is going to enlist. He’s more physically fit than Noah, so he doesn’t think it will be an issue.”
They sighed. “I don’t suppose he’s given any reasoning?” Rowlf asked.
“Oh, yes. I’ll let him explain all that himself.” Mom let out a heavy sigh. “But, all that aside. Are all of you coming here for a visit after the school year, or do I have to brag about my cooking to convince you?”
“I’ll help ya out here, Mrs. the Frog,” Rowlf said, and he turned to the other Muppets. “Her cooking’s delicious. Besides that, it’s edible. Any questions?”
Fozzie addressed his question to the phone. “Do you have any recipes without insects?”
Mom laughed. “Oh, plenty! And I know how to adjust the ones that do have insects, too. Now, how much more persuading do you need? Should I have Maggie call you, too? She’s got quite the talent at arm-twisting.”
“We’d better just agree, guys,” Rowlf said. “Mrs. the Frog is just as stubborn as Kermit, and Maggie’s even worse.”
“I’m just concerned about the safety of the swamp,” Scooter said. “But Mom, if you’re sure…”
“Oh, I’m sure, Scooter!” Mom said. “And Rowlf is right on the nose about my persistence. Dad’s rubbed off on me over the years.”
“Mom, do vous have any beds in the swamp?” Miss Piggy asked.
Mom laughed. “We’ll figure something out,” she promised. “And it sounds like I’ll be seeing you in a couple weeks!”
The Muppets knew there was no getting out of coming to the swamp at that point—and really, they didn’t want to get out of it. A visit to the swamp was, perhaps, exactly what the doctor ordered.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Betty Sue Rivers was glad the school year was almost over. Of course, that meant she would have to spend more time at home, trying to avoid her father… but she could spend more time with Craig, too, and maybe he would let her help with some of the fundraising he’d been doing. Unfortunately, all the talk about discrimination against military families wasn’t doing much to gain support for the war. As she ate her lunch, rather than looking over the notes for her next class, she kept a pencil in her hand and tried to think of some new ideas to raise funds for the war effort.
“THERE you are, Betty Sue!” Stacey shoved her books and her lunch onto the table as she rushed forward, then halted all her momentum to glance over her shoulder and slowly sit down as gracefully as she could, just in case any boys were looking. “You will never believe what jest happened!” she said excitedly, brown eyes sparkling as she smoothed her chestnut hair against one shoulder.
Betty Sue set her pencil down and sighed at her best friend. “Alright, what jest happened?”
Stacey’s hands danced into the air and flattened themselves on the table. “Amber Jacobsen jest invited both of us to her party. Look! I got the invitations right here!” She flung open her algebra textbook and pulled out two pieces of paper. “See?”
Betty Sue wasn’t impressed. “Stacey, she told us a month ago she was gonna invite us.”
“That was before her parents said she could invite boys,” Stacey said, and she started unwrapping her lunch. “It’s only two weeks away, Betty Sue. That doesn’t give us much time. We’ve gotta figure out our hair, and get some new clothes, and I’ll see I can convince my sister to let us use some of her makeup and show us how to put it on.”
“Jest because there’s gonna be boys there?” Betty Sue raised an eyebrow and bit into her sandwich.
“Not jest any boys, Betty Sue! Amber says she’s invitin’ the whole track team. And Adam is gonna be there.”
Betty Sue knit her brows together. “Who’s Adam?”
Stacey sighed and rolled her eyes. “Adam Castle! The boy who can’t take his eyes offa you in science class!”
“Oh, him.”
“Oh, him? Betty Sue, he is the cutest boy in the whole school!”
Betty Sue nearly laughed. “Stacey, you think every boy is the cutest boy in school.”
“That ain’t true,” Stacey argued.
“Oh, yes it is. Last week, you couldn’t stop talkin’ ‘bout Tony What’s-his-face…”
“Tony Abrams. And you still haven’t even looked at him, have you?”
“The week before that, it was Michael Whoever…”
“Michael Williams, and I never said he was cute. I said he was hot. There is a very big difference.”
“I see,” Betty Sue said skeptically.
“It’s true!” Stacey insisted, and she fanned herself with her hand. “That boy could melt a glacier,” she sighed.
Betty Sue shook her head. “I can’t say I’ve noticed.”
Stacey let out a frustrated huff. “I swear, Betty Sue, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you was either blind, you hadn’t reached puberty yet!” Then something occurred to her, and she leaned in close. “Or are ya jest not into men?” she whispered. “Is that it? Because you can tell me, Betty Sue. I wouldn’t judge ya fer that.”
With quite a bit of difficulty, Betty Sue managed to keep a straight face. “Stacey Melissa Lee,” she said solemnly, “Have you never seen me watch absolutely anything that stars Ashton Kutcher?”
Stacey thought about this, blinked, and then laughed. “Well, I dunno, Betty Sue. Have you ever remained conscious when Ashton Kutcher was on the screen?” she teased. “Alright, so you like Ashton Kutcher. Adam sorta looks like Ashton Kutcher…”
“Who’s Adam?” Betty Sue asked, this time just to fluster her friend, which worked quite well. She laughed.
“My point is, Betty Sue, we gotta figure out what to wear and how to do our hair for the party!” Stacey said. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout my red butterfly shirt, but I was already gonna wear that for the graduation dance. An’ besides, I don’t have a good necklace to go with it. I think we oughta go shopping, is what I think. Besides, none of your clothes bring out your eyes. You oughta wear somethin’ blue for the party. That’s good for your eyes. And then if we get some new clothes, we can get some nice jewelry to go with ‘em. I saw some earrings at the mall the other day that would be jest perfect with that new dress we was lookin’ at in the last issue of Seventeen.”
Betty Sue had all but stopped listening. “Stacey, how can ya even think about buyin’ all that junk? Ya never wear any of it more than once, anyway.”
Stacey blinked and stared at her friend. “It ain’t junk,” she said. “It’s called accessorizing, Betty Sue. It’s important!”
“It’s a waste of money, is what it is,” Betty Sue said. “Did ya ever even think about givin’ that money to the troops? Nobody really needs all those accessories. And did ya think about how much fuel it takes to get the merchandise here?” She pulled her long braid off of her neck and let it hang over her shoulder. “If it weren’t for the war and the gas prices, then maybe we could afford to care about somethin’ as—as—trivial as jewelry. But it’s more important to help our soldiers. Ever think of that?”
Stacey sat back and let her hands settle in her lap. Her friend’s speech and the fire behind it had quieted her considerably. “No, Betty Sue, I hadn’t thought of all that,” she said humbly. “Y’know I don’t pay much attention to all that political stuff… But I guess yer right. It couldn’t hurt to help the soldiers.”
Betty Sue nodded and glanced at the half-forgotten invitations. She frowned at the date and time. “Shucks… I can’t go to that party, anyway, Stacey. Craig’s doin’ a fundraiser then.”
Stacey looked surprised. “What’s that got to do with you?”
Betty Sue gave her a pointed look. “I am goin’ to my brother’s fundraiser, that’s what,” she said firmly. Then she shook her head. “I’ll have to call Amber tonight and give her my regrets.”
Stacey sighed and let her shoulders slump, dropping her chin into her hand. “You may have a point about payin’ more attention, Betty Sue, but I wish ya wouldn’t take life so seriously. We’re jest kids, really. We ain’t even in high school quite yet.”
Betty Sue quietly packed up what was left of her lunch. She thought about all the beer her father kept in the house these days, and the trauma her brother tried to pretend he didn’t have. “Life is serious, Stacey,” she whispered. “We ain’t kids no more.”
Leave behind my detonator? *Sadface.
hasn't gone on the trail or pundentry shows himself.
I love your mom, Kermit. And Clifford and Rowlf, too.
Kinda sounds like my Grandmom giving me instruction for packing for a sleepover.
MAGGIE IS MY SISTER!! 
>huggles Betty-Sue<
!