i.

“Jo began to dance a jig, by way of expressing her satisfaction, Amy nearly fell out of the window in her surprise, and Meg exclaimed, with up-lifted hands, ‘Well, I do believe the world is coming to an end.'”

-Chapter 6, Little Women

Miss Frannie stirred, and woke up at her usual time of seven-thirty. Beforehand, she stops snortling, then she begins wiggling, and finally she snaps her little mouth open and shut a few times, smacking loudly. The day begins. I peeked over the side of my bed, as always, down to her little bed at the foot of mine.

“Hey, Bunny.”

She blinks at me and gets up, clutching her dirty Patty. She doesn’t know that this is Patty II. The first went in for a washing-machine bath and never returned. Patty II doesn’t have yellow footies that smell funny, like Patty I did. Frannie was still nude from her bath last night.

She cuddled with me for a minute and then stood up unexpectedly. This was not part of her normal morning routine with me. She started shaking her butt in my face and flailing her arms around.

“Booty dance! Booty dance! Booty dance!” she yelled.

It’s always a good day when Frannie gets enough sleep.

ii.

“I like your nice manners and refined ways of speaking, when you don’t try to be elegant.”

–Meg March, Little Women

We were waiting to catch the 44 home and Frannie decided she was going to sit on the bench with a lady who was also waiting for the bus.

“Would you like to sit with me? I can share the bench with you,” the lady said.

Frannie looked at the woman unusually bravely and directly before sitting down. The woman was almost the same size Frannie is, and was one of those sprightly people who are older than they look, and have a great deal of interest in little kids. She had large sunglasses with red frames and remarked that Frannie did also, although Frannie’s have heart-shaped frames. Frannie lost the staring contest and ran over to hide beside me next to the wall.

“How old are you?” she asked Frannie.

“Do you want to say how old you are?” I asked her.

“Shree,” said Frannie, to the wall.

“She’s three,” I said.

The woman watched her closely for a couple of minutes, as I retied one of the straps of Frannie’s sundress, lifted her up on to an embankment to pick flowers, and took her back down again. I tied the daisies she picked into the straps of her dress. She picks me endless bouquets of weeds, and then gets cross when I toss them aside.

“Oh, she seems so patient!” said the woman. “Is she always like this, with such an even temperament?”

“Well, no,” I said. “All three-year-olds can get pretty crazy at times. But she’s fun to be around.”

“I think she’s an old soul,” she said, conclusively.

As the bus pulled up and we were about to get on, the woman made a final remark: “Oh, she seems old-fashioned, somehow, like she’s right out of Little Women!

iii.

“It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy’s games and work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy.”

–Jo March, Little Women

Brandishing a small pink toothbrush shaped like an orca (It’s a dolphin, Mom!”) I attacked Miss Frannie’s cheek with alacrity.

“Chooka choocka chooka,” I said. “C’mon, hold still.” I went after her nose. “I’m trying to brush your teeth here and you are not helping me out.” She opened her mouth wider, laughing, and I went for her forehead.

“Mom, you are doing it wrong!” she screamed.

“Well, open your mouth then. Chooka chooka chooka!” I went for her ear.

“Mom, you are a penis sauce head.”

“Penis sauce?”

“Peanut, Mom! Not penis!” She giggled until she fell of the step stool. It is not my fault that shree-year-olds can’t enunciate.

In Other, Dopey News

“Do you think your mom knows how serious we are?” I said.

“I think she knows more than she lets on,” he said.

“Do you think your mom worries about you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “But she’d never say anything to me about it. They knew tree work is dangerous, and I’m sure they were worried about me when I was with the tree service, but they never said anything then either.”

“I’m not a tree,” I said.

“Well, I can still fall out of you,” he said.