To Pippi Longstocking

A child without parents always ends up being the hero. She is free of all the burdens parents place on a child: eating vegetables and meat, washing behind the ears, bathing at regular intervals, neat hair, shoes, even though it’s summer.

Source: http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lojdq0njXk1qi6jm3.jpg

But Pippi’s dad it out to sea and her mom is oddly absent. She lives by herself with a horse in a house and makes all the decisions alone.

This is every child’s dream. Parents do not understand the need, the yearning to be free, to tear away. What would happen if I had cake for dinner? For lunch and dinner? Every day? For a month? What if I didn’t wash behind my ears? Would I go deaf? Would I miss my hearing? I like the quiet, in the morning when everyone is still asleep.

Pippi is living large. A monkey. A horse. A house. It’s perfect.

But one day, her father comes to take her to the South Seas. He’s come back for her. He misses her and has a life of beaches and coconuts waiting for them.

She says no.

No, Papa. I like my life here. I like my friends and house and my horse and my monkey. I go to the park and I have enough gold to last me. No, Papa. I will stay here.

But you go, she says.

As a child, it seemed to so easy to imagine and yet so impossible to pull off. How does it happen? Then one day, you are eating salad and chicken, your ears are clean and your shoes are on and then the next, you are alone in a house. Maybe not a monkey, but a dog perhaps. A grumpy roommate more likely. You’re having cereal for dinner again but it’s not as good as you hoped. Pippi made it look so simple.

She sloshes a bucket of water across the floor and straps brushes to her feet. She skates around to clean and sings sailor songs all the while.  She is clever. She is fearless. She is strong. We all watch in awe. Her red braids defiant against all gravity.