Previous superfudge part 19.
Grandma came to visit for a few days.
“I’m getting a bird,” Fudge told her.
“What kind of bird are you going to get?” Grandma asked.
“I don’t know. What kind of bird am I going to get?” he asked the rest of us.
We all spoke at once.
“A canary,” Mom said.
“A parakeet,” Dad said.
“A myna bird,” I said.
Fudge looked confused.
Grandma said, “I see you haven’t decided yet.”
“Myna birds can talk,” I said.
“A talking bird?” Fudge asked.
“Yes. You can teach a myna bird to say anything,” I added.
“Anything?” Fudge asked, and I could tell what he was thinking.
“Well, almost anything,” I told him.
“A talking bird,” Fudge said, smiling. “Fudgie’s going to get a talking bird.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Dad said. “We haven’t decided on what kind of bird we’re getting. I was thinking in terms of anice blue parakeet. You can train a parakket to fly around the room and land on a stick.”
“And I was thinking in terms of a pretty yellow canary,” Mom said. “Canaries can sing. They make everyone feel happy.”
“That’s nice,” Fudge said. “Mommy can get a canary and Daddy can get a parakeet and Fudgie can get his myna bird.”
“We’re only getting one bird,” Mom told him.
“Oh,” Fudge said. “Then I guess Mommy won’t get her canary and Daddy won’t get his parakeet, because Fudgie’s getting his myna bird. Pee-tah says they can talk and he knows everything.”
Mom and Dad looked at me.
“Well, how was I supposed to know you wanted a canary?” I asked Mom. “And that you wanted a parakeet?” I asked Dad. “You never mentioned it before.”
“It should be very educational for Fudgie to have a myna bird,” Grandma said.
”If I teach him to talk, he might teach me to fly,” Fudge said, flapping his arms.
Tootsie hiccupped, them started crying.
“Who wants some home baked cookies?” Grandma asked as she lifted Tootsie out of her high chair and patted her on the back.
Grandma is very good at changing the subject.
The next afternoon when I got home from school, the car was gone and the house was quiet. I went upstairs and was on my way to my roon when I heard something funny coming from Tootsie’s room. Her door was opened just a crack and I peeked in. there was Grandma, barefooted, dancing in circles, with Tootsie in her arms. She was singing:
Toot, Toot, Tootsie, good bye!
Toot, Toot, Tootsie, don’t cry,
The choo choo train that takes me,
La dad a deed um doo dah deed ah
Oh bah shoo dah,
Kiss me, Tootsie, and then…
“Hi, Grandma,” I said, opening the door all the way.
“Oh, Peter!” she stopped and her face turned red.
“What were you doing?” I asked.
“Dancing,” she said. “Tootsie likes to dance, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
Tootsie grabbed a handful of Grandma’s hair and screeched with delight.
“What was that song you were singing?” I asked.
“Toot, Toot, Tootsie! Good bye’,” Grandma said.
“You mean there really is such a song? You weren’t making it up?”
“Certainly not! It was very popular back in… let’s see… oh, I can’t remember the year… but it was very popular.”
Tootsie bounced up and down in Grandma’s arms, wanting more. Grandma passed her to me. “Here, you try it now.”
“Me?” I said. “You want me to dance with Tootsie?”
“Grandma! I’m in sixth grade. I don’t go around dancing with babies in my arms.”
“Come on,” Grandma said. “I’ll sing… you dance.” And she began her song again.
Toot, Toot, Tootsie, good bye!
Toot, Toot, Tootsie, don’t cry…
I twirled around and around with Tootsie in my arms, and Grandma was right, she loved it. She screamed and laughed and threw her head back, and pretty soon I was laughing too, and all three of us were having a fine old time when Fudge appeared at the door and said, “What are you doing, Pee-tah?”
I looked over, and Mom and Dad were standing there too.
“Oh, I uh… that is… I was…”
“Dancing,” Grandma said. “Tootsie likes to dance, so we were dancing with her.” She found her shoes under Tootsie’s crib and stepped into them.
Next superfudge part 21.