it."
Who'd want to? I was thinking as Fudge stood on tiptoe and peered into Fauna's right eye.
"How old are you?" Flora asked me.
"He's twelve," Fauna said, stretching back to her full height, which was just a little taller than me.
"How'd you know that?" I asked her.
"I can always tell," Fauna said.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"How old do you think?" Fauna said.
"I'm not into guessing," I told them.
"He's not into guessing," Fauna repeated to Flora and they giggled.
Why do girls giggle? I mean, do they really find things so hysterically funny, or are they born that way?
"Want to know how old I am?" Fudge asked.
82
He didn't wait for them to answer. "I'm five but I'll be six soon. I'm in mixed group."
"What's mixed group?" Flora asked.
"It's what comes after kindergarten if you're really smart," Fudge told her. "Pete's in seventh grade."
"That's what grade we'd be in..." Flora said.
"If we went to school," Fauna said, finishing for her.
"You don't go to school?" Fudge asked.
"We're home-schooled," Fauna said.
"What's that?"
"Our parents teach us at home," Flora explained.
"Who else is in your class?" Fudge asked.
"No one," they answered together.
"Except our brother sometimes hangs around," Flora said. That's when I realized the little boy hiding behind her was part of the family.
"He's almost four," Fauna said, "and even though you can't tell ..."
"Our mother is pregnant again," Flora whispered.
"Our mother was pregnant one time," Fudge said, also whispering.
"Only one time?" Flora asked. She and Fauna looked at each other and giggled again.
"Isn't that right, Pete?"
"How about three times?" I said. "Once with me, once with you, and once with our little sister."
83
"Oh. I forgot about the you and me part," Fudge said. Then he danced around, singing, "I know how the baby got inside ..."
"We all do," I said, stopping him before he got started.
This time Flora and Fauna actually laughed. Then Flora stepped aside and said, "This is our little brother. And if you think we have interesting names, wait 'til you hear his!"
"It's Farley Drexel!" Fauna announced.
"Farley Drexel?" Fudge said. "That's my name!"
"It can't be," Flora told him.
"Well, it is," Fudge said, hands on his hips.
"But it's an old family name," Fauna said.
"Yeah... well, our fathers are cousins, remember?" I said.
"You mean ..." Flora began.
"That Farley Drexel Hatcher ..." Fauna said.
"Was your father's uncle just like he was our father's uncle?" Flora finished for both of them.
I nodded. "We call him Fudge," I said.
"They call me Fudge," Fudge repeated. "Everybody but my little sister calls me Fudge. She calls me Foo, but that's just because she can't say Fudge."
"Fudge! That's a great name," Fauna said. "We've been trying to come up with ..."
"A good name for Farley," Flora said.
84
"And Fudge is perfect!" Fauna added.
"He can't have my name," Fudge told them.
"He already does," I reminded him.
"He has the Farley Drexel part but not the Fudge!" Fudge planted his feet wide apart and prepared to do battle. "You can call him Farley or you can call him Drexel or you can call him F.D., but you can't call him Fudge!"
That sounded familiar. I was wondering where I'd heard it before when Fudge nudged me and said, "Remember when Rat Face said that, Pete?"
Oh yeah ... I thought. Rat Face. His first kindergarten teacher. Then I started to laugh.
Little Farley growled.
"My name belongs to me," Fudge told them, in case there was any doubt. "I own it!"
"You can't own a name," Flora said.
"Can too!" Fudge insisted.
Little Farley growled again. Fudge looked at him. "Can't he talk?"
"Of course he can talk," Flora said.
"But he doesn't have to because ..." Fauna said.
"We say everything for him." Flora finished the sentence. Having a conversation with the Natural Beauties was like watching two guys playing a video game. You got dizzy from trying to follow it.
85
When Little Farley growled a third time, Fauna said,
Who'd want to? I was thinking as Fudge stood on tiptoe and peered into Fauna's right eye.
"How old are you?" Flora asked me.
"He's twelve," Fauna said, stretching back to her full height, which was just a little taller than me.
"How'd you know that?" I asked her.
"I can always tell," Fauna said.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"How old do you think?" Fauna said.
"I'm not into guessing," I told them.
"He's not into guessing," Fauna repeated to Flora and they giggled.
Why do girls giggle? I mean, do they really find things so hysterically funny, or are they born that way?
"Want to know how old I am?" Fudge asked.
82
He didn't wait for them to answer. "I'm five but I'll be six soon. I'm in mixed group."
"What's mixed group?" Flora asked.
"It's what comes after kindergarten if you're really smart," Fudge told her. "Pete's in seventh grade."
"That's what grade we'd be in..." Flora said.
"If we went to school," Fauna said, finishing for her.
"You don't go to school?" Fudge asked.
"We're home-schooled," Fauna said.
"What's that?"
"Our parents teach us at home," Flora explained.
"Who else is in your class?" Fudge asked.
"No one," they answered together.
"Except our brother sometimes hangs around," Flora said. That's when I realized the little boy hiding behind her was part of the family.
"He's almost four," Fauna said, "and even though you can't tell ..."
"Our mother is pregnant again," Flora whispered.
"Our mother was pregnant one time," Fudge said, also whispering.
"Only one time?" Flora asked. She and Fauna looked at each other and giggled again.
"Isn't that right, Pete?"
"How about three times?" I said. "Once with me, once with you, and once with our little sister."
83
"Oh. I forgot about the you and me part," Fudge said. Then he danced around, singing, "I know how the baby got inside ..."
"We all do," I said, stopping him before he got started.
This time Flora and Fauna actually laughed. Then Flora stepped aside and said, "This is our little brother. And if you think we have interesting names, wait 'til you hear his!"
"It's Farley Drexel!" Fauna announced.
"Farley Drexel?" Fudge said. "That's my name!"
"It can't be," Flora told him.
"Well, it is," Fudge said, hands on his hips.
"But it's an old family name," Fauna said.
"Yeah... well, our fathers are cousins, remember?" I said.
"You mean ..." Flora began.
"That Farley Drexel Hatcher ..." Fauna said.
"Was your father's uncle just like he was our father's uncle?" Flora finished for both of them.
I nodded. "We call him Fudge," I said.
"They call me Fudge," Fudge repeated. "Everybody but my little sister calls me Fudge. She calls me Foo, but that's just because she can't say Fudge."
"Fudge! That's a great name," Fauna said. "We've been trying to come up with ..."
"A good name for Farley," Flora said.
84
"And Fudge is perfect!" Fauna added.
"He can't have my name," Fudge told them.
"He already does," I reminded him.
"He has the Farley Drexel part but not the Fudge!" Fudge planted his feet wide apart and prepared to do battle. "You can call him Farley or you can call him Drexel or you can call him F.D., but you can't call him Fudge!"
That sounded familiar. I was wondering where I'd heard it before when Fudge nudged me and said, "Remember when Rat Face said that, Pete?"
Oh yeah ... I thought. Rat Face. His first kindergarten teacher. Then I started to laugh.
Little Farley growled.
"My name belongs to me," Fudge told them, in case there was any doubt. "I own it!"
"You can't own a name," Flora said.
"Can too!" Fudge insisted.
Little Farley growled again. Fudge looked at him. "Can't he talk?"
"Of course he can talk," Flora said.
"But he doesn't have to because ..." Fauna said.
"We say everything for him." Flora finished the sentence. Having a conversation with the Natural Beauties was like watching two guys playing a video game. You got dizzy from trying to follow it.
85
When Little Farley growled a third time, Fauna said,
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