"So what's for dinner?"
"Food," said his mother. "Followed by dessert."
Milrose stared at her with admiration. His moth—reer was one of the few people on the planet with an even greater gift for sacasm than his own.
"Isn't dessert a kind of food?"
"Not this desesrt. I've decided to poison you."
"Mm. Will it at least taste good?"
"For a minute. And then you will fall into it, face first."
"Are you sure you want ot murder your only son?"
"Quite sure, darling. Woulk you set the table, please?"
As he set the table, Milrose realized that his mother had succeeded in cheering him up. All of those mothers out there who read books by specialists — witless books about how to bring up perfect children — probably never threatened to poison their offspring. His mother, on the other hand, never read these books — and in fact held them in contempt — as a result of which she knew how to make him happy when he was annoyed.
— from Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help, by Douglas Anthony Cooper.
Milrose Munce sees ghosts. His school is full of them. But the Administration would rather keep this quiet, so they need to keep Milrose quiet.
There's more attitude in this book than there is anything of substance; although, I do love how the jock ghosts and the science geek ghosts keep to their separate floors, and that many of them died horrid deaths.
The book's not meaty enough to charm most adults, but I'm sure it's a pleasant enough diversion for its intended age-group.