That's the synopsis for the very first book I ever read, The Trouble With Soap, by Margery Cuyler. It seems very odd to me that I'd read something like this, but upon further review, maybe it wasn't that odd after all.
First off, the cover of the two girls sitting in front of the principal's office door reek of the 1980's - and I loved the eighties. Maybe I liked the book because Laurie looked like a girl I had a crush on in grade 8. Maybe I liked the book because Soap looked like a young Joe from The Facts of Life - a show I used to watch all the time.
I definitely liked the book because of the unusual font used inside. Not your traditional Times New Roman or Garamond, but more like a cross between Verdana and Candara.
Maybe I liked the book because I could relate to Laurie, the goody-two-shoes, by the rules, Mrs. Predictable, and, like her, always wished I could be like the male version of Soap - the risk taker, the daredevil, the throw-caution-to-the-wind type.
I think I liked the book because of the strong messages of don't try to be someone else, and sometimes we just have to grow up, to often we outgrow our old friends and simply mature.
But I know I liked the book because of all these things rolled up into one topical piece of pulp that resonated in me for a myriad of reasons back in the day. I guess that's what makes us like certain books.
Call it odd. Call it oddly amusing.