“Bits-and-Pieces!” Little Sally was perplexed, Granny always said ‘bits-an-pieces’ when she was bothered and it made her feel close to her grandmother by saying ‘bits-an-pieces’. It was her new thing. What had Little Sally in such a dither was that her new bow would not stay in her hair, she needed her bow. She would be playing and all of a sudden it would be in her face flopping around. It was pretty, pink with yellow spots, Sally’s favorite colors. She liked pink and yellow for everything, except chickenpox. Her brother had had chickenpox and he did not look good pink and yellow. Little Sally had been bundled off to Granny’s soon as that happened, but she remembered how icky he looked and hoped she would never be chickenpoxed.
As Sally was sticking her bow back on her head she got creamy filling from the Twinkie she was eating all over and now it was in her hair. “Bits-an-pieces!” Mother did not like Little Sally eating anything fun. She was fond of saying, you are what you eat. Sally didn’t quite know what that meant, but knew she would rather be sweet than something like artichoke, broccoli or, God forbid, liver and onions.
Mother looked at Little Sally a little more suspiciously than Sally would have liked, but didn’t say anything as Sally traipsed through the kitchen on her way to the backyard to play. Mother’s raised eyebrow was enough. At least the bow was now firmly stuck in place.
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