The Mini Adventures of Misha: Four Days in San Francisco

By Patricia La Bella

The Mini Adventures of Misha: Four Days in San Francisco is a charming tale of comedic adventures entwined within a true-to-life coming of age story.

Raised on a hearty dose of Facebook and E! Channel, ten-year-old Misha is like many urban-minded young girls who possess a free-will, a sharp tongue, and a few Juicy Couture handbags.

Despite her propensity for the latest styles, Misha maintains a veil of non-conformity. Misha would rather lick a payphone receiver than to dress in a matching outfit with her doll; not to mention, her annoyance at anything to do with love-struck vampires.

This book follows Misha and her mom on an adventurous trip to San Francisco, California. Misha’s mom is excited to introduce her daughter to culture and diversity. Misha, however has one goal in mind: Get to The Holy Grail of shopping – The miraculous five-story SAKS FIFTH AVENUE!

As a single parent, Misha’s mom is trying to give her daughter an expansive vision of the world, while trying to be the perfect role model, and all the while competing with the likes of Louis Vuitton and Snooki. While she is Misha’s biggest supporter, Mom also serves as Misha’s number-one nemesis.

Amidst this push-and-pull relationship, mother and daughter struggle through their differences as well as their similarities. The Mini Adventures of Misha weaves an intricate yarn of mother-daughter dynamic; social regard; nuances of youth; and challenges of parenthood with reality and humor.

While Misha’s attitude and character are detailed, her physical appearance is not – an intricate element in personalizing Misha as relatable to any girl, regardless of race, religion, or background.

More fun and anxiety await Misha in the future, so keep an eye out for Misha's next mini adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia La Bella
• Release date: May 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476213965

Patricia La Bella

Patricia is a Marketing Writer and Author living in Southern California. Patricia writes for Examiner.com covering Orange County high school sports, music, and video gaming.

Book preview

The Mini Adventures of Misha: Four Days in San Francisco

By Patricia La Bella

Copyright 2012 Patricia La Bella

Smashwords Edition

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ISBN: 9781476213965

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Mom, let’s go!

Chapter 2: What’s wrong, Mom?

Chapter 3: Jay. Yew. En. Kay.

Chapter 4: Hold on to the pole.

Chapter 5: Um…there’s a wharf.

Chapter 6: Always tomorrow!

Chapter 7: Worst of the worst.

Chapter 8: You’re dropping keys.

Chapter 9: Well, that was an experience.

Chapter 10: What’s the problem?

Chapter 11: It’s my dream!

Chapter 12: Where we going next, Mom?

Chapter 13: It’s a long story.

Chapter 14: Foo dog!

About the Author

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Chapter 1: Mom, let’s go!

Misha’s mom sat in the airport terminal, texting feverishly on her Blackberry. For her 10-year old daughter Misha, the waiting was excruciating. Misha stood in front of the oversized glass plate window watching the planes take off and anticipating her turn to get on one of those babies and shoot off into the blue of the heavens. Such a great day, Misha thought.

It was a usual day of travel for Misha and her mom – A hectic experience of rushing all morning only to be stuck idly waiting somewhere. On this particular morning, they awoke a full hour after the buzzing of their alarm clock. Last minute packing and Misha’s mom yelling down the hall to Don’t forget to... and Don’t dawdle was all Misha could remember coming out of her mom's mouth. Of course, these commands were hard for Misha to comprehend, since she made an art form of forgetting and dawdling.

As usual, after the chaos ended and the bags packed tightly into the trunk of the car and the mad maze to the airport and the parking lot fury and the terminal finding, the two sat blissfully and rather calmly in the comfort of the plastic chairs of the terminal waiting area.

Misha’s head popped up as she heard the call of Ticket holders with A Tickets only, may now line up.

Mom, let’s go, Misha sang with delight. Misha’s mom said nothing, but continued to feverishly type with her thumbs. Misha’s mom chuckled as she read her own creative and obviously humorous email.

Mom, let’s go! Misha anxiously tugged on her mom's sleeve. By now, the calmness that she knew a minute ago was all but gone and anxiousness was back again. When Misha looked up, she saw the line had doubled in size. Before she knew it, the voice on the intercom called for B ticket holders to line up.

Misha’s mom cheerfully hit send, placed her Blackberry on her lap and looked calmly around. By now, Misha’s face was stern and marred with impatience.

Oh relax, Misha. We have seat numbers. What does it matter if we wait here or on the plane? It’s stupid to wait in that line.

Misha was not having any of it. She knew in her heart that getting on that plane would certainly make the plane take off sooner. Misha stood with her lips pierced as her mom returned to her Blackberry.

Okay, Honey, Misha’s mom said without averting her eyes from the small device. Why don’t you go stand in line for us.

I will, Misha snorted. The feisty ten year old flung her tote bag over her shoulder and walked to the end of the line, which incidentally, happened to be only a few feet from where her mom sat.

Misha dropped her tote bag onto the floor, making a giant thug. A few ticket holders turned and stared down at the tote and then at Misha but the little girl didn't care one ioda. Misha folded her arms and looked down at her tote bag with pride. It was hard to miss. Besides being stuffed to the gills, it was a bright lime green canvas bag with faded words and hearts scribbled all over it. One day when Misha was bored, she decided to jazz up the bag with a black magic marker. Her mom thought it looked trashy and threw it in the washing machine, but it only faded the scribbled words and hearts.

Why must you junk everything up, Misha? I'm not buying you a new one, so you're stuck with it, was all Misha's mom could say at the time.

Misha decided she didn't care and liked its newly distressed look. Now the contents of the lime green tote bag included a couple of school books (which she was supposed to read for homework, but really had no intention of doing so); a coloring book; a box of 64 count Crayola Crayons; a fully stocked pencil box; two fashion magazines (which she had every intention of reading); a framed picture of her dog, Jax; a travel size tissue box; travel size toilet seat covers; a canister of Pringles potato chips; an iPod; a memo pad; video game player; video game player games; a lip gloss case; and a digital camera.

Misha looked back at her mom, who was still sitting in the plastic chair with her legs crossed. Except now her Blackberry was in her lap and a smile was on her face as she watched a little boy dance in front of her.

What is your name, little guy? asked Misha’s mom to the dancing boy, who appeared to be about five or six.

The little imp did a twirl and sang My name’s Jeff. What’s your name?

I’m . . .

Just then Jeff’s grandma (or maybe his very old mom) intervened, Jeffrey, come here. I told you not to talk to strangers.

Misha’s mom looked around to see where this stranger was that Jeff was supposedly talking to, then realized it was her. Because Misha’s mom loved to talk, she sometimes forgot that children were told not to talk to strange adults. She never thought of herself as strange, so it occasionally slipped her mind.

Misha dragged her tote a few more inches. Jeff had come twirling back and once again, stood in front of Misha’s mom. Misha’s mom had some candy in her purse and thought about offering some to Jeff, but then thought better. If there’s one thing worse than talking to strangers, it’s taking candy from them. So, she dug in her purse, pulled the small chocolate out, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. Too bad, Jeff, she muttered to herself.

At this point, Misha, realizing she hadn’t moved more than three feet, dragged her tote back and sat next to her mom.

Whatcha eating? she asked.

A piece of chocolate, Misha’s mom replied.

"Where’d