My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry(110)

In the autumn, the boy with a syndrome starts in the first year. When there’s a costume party, he comes dressed up as a princess. A group of older boys laugh and make fun of him, until he starts crying. Elsa and Alex notice this and take him outside into the parking area and Elsa calls her dad. He arrives with a bag of new clothes.

When they go back in, Elsa and Alex are also dressed up as princesses. Spider-Man princesses.

And after that, they’re the boy’s superheroes.

Because all seven-year-olds deserve superheroes.

And whoever disagrees with that needs their head examined.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Neda. Everything is still to make you laugh. Never forget that. (Sorry about the wet towels on the bathroom floor.) Asheghetam.

My maternal grandmother, who is not the least bit crazy, but has always baked some of the best cookies a seven-year-old could ever ask for.

My paternal grandmother. Who has always believed in me most of all.

My sister. Who is stronger than a lion.

My mother. Who taught me to read.

Astrid Lindgren. Who taught me to love it.

All the librarians of my childhood. Who saw that a boy was afraid of heights and lent him wings.

Thanks also to:

My Obi-Wan, Niklas Natt och Dag. My editor, John H?ggblom.

My agent, Jonas Axelsson. The language attack force, Vanja Vinter. Fredrik S?derlund (for letting me borrow the Noween).

Johan Zillén (who got it before all others). Kersti Forsberg (for giving a kid a chance once). Nils Olsson (for two amazing covers). All who have been involved in both this book and A Man Called Ove at Forum, M?npocket, Bonnier Audio, Bonnier Agency, Tre V?nner, and Partners in Stories. An extra thanks in advance to the linguistic “besserwissers” who will no doubt locate the grammatical failings in the names of the seven kingdoms (tense high-five).

Most of all thanks to you who read. Without whose highly dubious judgment I would very likely have to go out and find myself a proper job.