Three

I’m three three three one-two-three and nobody knows I’m up up up – Mommy sleeping sleeping sad in her big bed. Daddy at work – work work work in town at the dry cleaners after bacon and eggs and coffee at Ohio Restaurant. Love Daddy – I’m Daddy’s little girl.

Climb one-two-three shelves for cereal in the cupboard – bowl spoon milk from the frigerator sometimes smells bad. Then turn the knob all-by-myself open the big heavy door open the screen door out the door. No shoes no socks my feet my toes wiggle in the grass wet wet wet. Run run run to the barn pee in my big girl training pants take em off and toss em in the weeds every-Mommy’s-bad-word-morning-when-will-she-learn. Bare bottom who cares I don’t care no one cares maybe grandma cares.

Horses are waiting for me me me at the gate one big one nice one mean one brown one white and a pony-just-my-size. And I pet their noses oh my gosh soft so soft and I feed them green grass even the white mean-to-grown-ups one who could eat my tiny fingers anytime it wants to snap-just-like-that but it doesn’t never never never did never never never will. My big brodder’s watching me from his window thinks he’s the boss of me but isn’t the boss of me. Face scrunched and big frown always worry worry worry.

Then my dog friends are waiting every-morning-same-place-same-time for me me me. Black white and brown but mostly black Smokey knows only one trick shake shake shake the neighbor boys taught him a long time ago when he was my brodder’s dog not anymore. And Sammy also black with curly part-poodle hair. And the next-door-neighbor’s big big big red Ireesh Sitter with eyes that say something to me every day. Just us we all go running in the tall green grass field – green grass taller than me and when I fall down my dog friends wait for me to get up and catch up. I know lunch time just-know-it lunch time and cartoons and fight-every-Mommy’s-bad-word-day-driving-me-crazy-brodder time – who’s not the boss of me.

(But he makes me laugh laugh laugh so much I pee my pants accidental not on purpose. When I dunk Oreo cookies in my milk and my mouth is full – makes me laugh so I spray it all over the table. Laugh when he makes the squeaky mouse voice when I try to bite a pickle I can never eat my pickles. “No! No! No! Don’t eat me! Please please please don’t eat me!” And he pushes me around the driveway in my old junky I’m-too-big-for-it-stroller again again again! And of course he showed me how to swing a swing and slide a slide. Keeps my bare feet away from rusty nails and sometime makes me Froot Loops even if I think I-did-it-all-by-myself. And he said he would look after me when I ride the school bus for the very first time. And he looks for me when no one is looking for me and he makes sure I get home for supper. Okay my brodder loves loves loves me even if he isn’t the boss boss boss of me.)

And at nighty-night time Mommy awake – not a morning mommy. And Daddy’s home – I’m Daddy’s little girl Daddy’s home! Brodder shuts up but sometimes a story. Mommy finds at bath and toys in the tub and towel time tics in my ears burrs in my hair from the tall green grass time. Daddy mad Mommy says nothin’ Brodder told-you-so. Tics and burrs just like Smokey Sammy and the big big big red Ireesh Sitter who don’t get baths or towels or cartoons so what’s the big deal?

David Sapp, writer and artist, lives along the southern shore of Lake Erie in North America. A Pushcart nominee, he was awarded Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Grants for poetry and the visual arts. His poetry and prose appear widely in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. His publications include articles in the Journal of Creative Behavior, chapbooks Close to Home and Two Buddha, a novel Flying Over Erie, and a book of poems and drawings titled Drawing Nirvana.