Writing for children is murder. A chapter has to be boiled down to a paragraph. Every word has to count.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite. Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting.
If you can see things out of whack, then you can see how things can be in whack.
Sometimes crazy just isn't enough.
Oh, the places you will go.
You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.