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a week ago i decided i didnt like this spot and have been on the lookout for more fortable bathing quarters。 it was peter who gave me the idea of setting my washtub in the spacious office bathroom。 i can sit down； turn on the light； lock the door； pour out the water without anyones help； and all without the fear of being seen。
i used my lovely bathroom for the first time on sunday and； strange as it may seem； i like it better than any other place。
the plumber was at work downstairs on wednesday； moving the water pipes and drains from the office bathroom to the hallway so the pipes wont freeze during a cold winter。 the plumbers visit was far from pleasant。 not only were we not allowed to run water during the day； but the bathroom was also off…limits。 ill tell you how we handled this problem； you may find it unseemly of me to bring it up； but im not so prudish about matters of this kind。 on the day of our arrival； father and i improvised a chamber pot； sacrificing a canning jar for this purpose。 for the duration of the plumbers visit； canning jars were put into service during the daytime to hold our calls of nature。 as far as i was concerned； this wasnt half as difficult as having to sit still all day and not say a word。 you can imagine how hard that was for miss quack； quack； quack。 on ordinary days we have to speak in a whisper； not being able to talk or move at all is ten times worse。
after three days of constant sitting； my backside was stiff and sore。 nightly calisthenics helped。
yours； anne
OCTOBER； 1942
锛佸皬锛犺锛僼xt锛勫ぉ锛惧爞锛�
wednesday； september 2； 1942
dearest kitty；
mr。 and mrs。 van daan have had a terrible fight。 ive never seen anything like it； since mother and father wouldnt dream of shouting at each other like that。 the argument was based on something so trivial it didnt seem worth wasting a single word on it。
oh well； to each his own。
of course； its very difficult for peter； who gets caught in the middle； but no one takes peter seriously anymore； since hes hypersensitive and lazy。 yesterday he was beside himself with worry because his tongue was blue instead of pink。 this rare phenomenon disappeared as quickly as it came。 today hes walking around with a heavy scarf on because hes got a stiff neck。 his highness has been plaining of lumbago too。 aches and pains in his heart； kidneys and lungs are also par for the course。 hes an absolute hypochondriac！ （thats the right word； isnt it？）
mother and mrs。 van daan arent getting along very well。 there are enough reasons for the friction。 to give you one small example； mrs。 van d。 has removed all but three of her sheets from our munal linen closet。 shes assuming that mothers can be used for both families。 shell be in for a nasty surprise when she discovers that mother has followed her lead。
furthermore； mrs。 van d。 is ticked off because were using her china instead of ours。
shes still trying to find out what weve done with our plates； theyre a lot closer than she thinks； since theyre packed in cardboard boxes in the attic； behind a load of opekta advertising material。 as long as were in hiding； the plates will remain out of her reach。 since im always having accidents； its just as well！ yesterday i broke one of mrs。 van d。s soup bowls。
〃oh！〃 she angrily exclaimed。 〃cant you be more careful？ that was my last one。鈥�
please bear in mind； kitty； that the two ladies speak abominable dutch （i dont dare ment on the gentlemen： theyd be highly insulted）。 if you were to hear their bungled attempts； youd laugh your head off。 weve given up pointing out their errors； since correcting them doesnt help anyway。 whenever i quote mother or mrs。 van daan； ill write proper dutch instead of trying to duplicate their speech。
last week there was a brief interruption in our monotonous routine。 this was provided by peter and a book about women。 i should explain that margot and peter are allowed to read nearly all the books mr。 kleiman lends us。 but the adults preferred to keep this special book to themselves。 this immediately piqued peters curiosity。 what forbidden fruit did it contain？ he snuck off with it when his mother was downstairs talking； and took himself and his booty to the loft。 for two days all was well。 mrs。
van daan knew what he was up to； but kept mum until mr。 van daan found out about it。 he threw a fit； took the book away and assumed that would be the end of the business。 however； hed neglected to take his sons curiosity into account。 peter； not in the least fazed by his fathers swift action； began thinking up ways to read the rest of this vastly interesting book。
in the meantime； mrs。 van d。 asked mother for her opinion。 mother didnt think this particular book was suitable for margot； but she saw no harm in letting her read most other books。
you see； mrs。 van daan； mother said； theres a big difference between margot and peter。 to begin with； margots a girl； and girls are always more mature than boys。
second； shes already read many serious books and doesnt go looking for those which are no longer forbidden。 third； margots much more sensible and intellectually advanced； as a result of her four years at an excellent school。鈥�
mrs。 van daan agreed with her； but felt it was wrong as a matter of principle to let youngsters read books written for adults。
meanwhile； peter had thought of a suitable time when no one would be interested in either him or the book。 at seven…thirty in the evening； when the entire family was listening to the radio in the private office； he took his treasure and stole off to the loft again。 he should have been back by eight…thirty； but he was so engrossed in the book that he forgot the time and was just ing down the stairs when his father entered the room。 the scene that followed was not surprising： after a slap； a whack and a tug…of…war； the book lay on the table and peter was in the loft。
this is how matters stood when it was time for the family to eat。 peter stayed upstairs。 no one gave him a moments thought； hed have to go to bed without his dinner。 we continued eating； chatting merrily away； when suddenly we heard a piercing whistle。 we lay down our forks and stared at each other； the shock clearly visible on our pale faces。
then we heard peters voice through the chimney： 〃i won t e down！〃
mr。 van daan leapt up； his napkin falling to the floor； and shouted； with the blood rushing to his face； 〃ive had enough！鈥�
father； afraid of what might happen； grabbed him by the arm and the two men went to the attic。 after much struggling and kicking； peter wound up in his room with the door shut； and we went on eating。
mrs。 van daan wanted to save a piece of bread for her darling son； but mr。 van d。
was adamant。 〃if he doesnt apologize this minute； hell have to sleep in the loft。鈥�
we protested that going without dinner was enough punishment。 what if peter were to catch cold？ we wouldnt be able to call a doctor。
peter didnt apologize； and returned to the loft。
mr。 van daan decided to leave well enough alone； though he did note the next morning that peters bed had been slept in。 at seven peter went to the attic again； but was persuaded to e downstairs when