Everything on a Waffle

I finished Polly Horvath’s Everything on a Waffle in a week in fifth grade, taking turns with my mom reading aloud before bed. Although this book is “Ages 10+,” its impact remains in my life even in my twenties.

Red-haired like “the color of carrots in apricot glaze (recipe to follow),” Primrose Squarp is a whimsical eleven-year-old, and the only one in the little village of Coal Harbor who believes her parents did not die at sea. Her optimism pervades every moment of the narrative, casting a light-hearted glow on a dismal situation.

This book first introduced to me the idea that the way one reacts to circumstances defines them as good or bad. Perhaps I found Primrose so fascinating because she acted carefree, optimistic, and independent while I felt anxious, self-conscious, and overly concerned with what others thought of me. The two of us were the same age when I read her story, and this helped me shift my perspective on life to realize that there is almost always something positive about every situation.

Primrose’s first caretaker after her parents’ disappearance, Miss Perfidy, carries with her an overwhelming aroma of mothballs. I would have complained profusely and avoided her at all costs. Primrose instead recognizes the utility in the situation and stores her sweaters in Miss Perfidy’s house even after moving out. With a stench so strong, it guarantees that woolen clothing will stay safe from moths there.

Despite her carefree demeanor, Primrose’s life is far from charmed. Instead, she embodies the extremely clumsy preteen. We all stumble through those awkward years between childhood and maturity, but most of us are not as accident-prone as Primrose, who loses a toe, slices off a finger, and sets a guinea pig ablaze throughout the course of the novel. These incidents are simply the result of rejecting the mundane and teetering on the edge of normal.

As Primrose explains, “I am not in the body of life. I hover on the extremities. I float.”

At such a young age, she has already begun to identify herself in relation to the world around her. Like Primrose, I had always felt a little removed from the central flow of the world; I either struggled to catch up or sped ahead — even though my pace always felt natural to me. Maybe I, too, live on the extremities, but I do not feel ashamed, for the body needs fingers and toes to balance. Primrose helped me accept this.

We all find peace and clarity in different ways. While prayer or meditation may work for some, consulting Miss Bowzer at her neighborhood restaurant The Girl in the Swing works for Primrose. Miss Bowzer dispenses words of wisdom and serves everything on a waffle, even lasagnas, illustrating that the most unexpected combinations in life can bring happiness.

Horvath’s detailed, figurative language extends into full-blown recipes, some of which my mother and I tried ourselves. This dedication to description catalyzed my excessive use of extravagant similes and metaphors in my everyday language, which eventually found their place in my writing as well.

I will not tell you if Primrose finds her parents. The ultimate outcome is less important than the unrelenting hope and confidence she possesses throughout her search for understanding. She asks us, “Haven’t you ever just known something deep in your heart without reason?” I’m sure we can all think of a time when we, too, believed something against all odds. Her journey brightened my own, teaching the fifth grade me that with the right attitude, you can put anything on a waffle and make it taste good.