Free I Had a Favorite Dress by Boni Ashburn

I had a favorite dress that was my favoritest
dress ever.
    I wore it every Tuesday , because
that

was my favorite day of the week.

    But one Tuesday, I put on my favorite dress . . .
and it was too short! Mama said so. Uh-oh!
    I couldn’t bear the thought of not wearing my favoritest
dress. So I moaned and I groaned, I complained, distraught . . .
    â€œYou’re overwrought, dear, it’s clear,” Mama said. “Don’t make
mountains out of molehills. Make molehills out of mountains.”

    Well, that wasn’t very clear at
all
, I thought,
but why not
make
something out of my dress?
    So I asked my mama, “Mama, dear . . .”

    And my new ruffly shirt became
my favoritest shirt, and I wore it every
Wednesday , because that was
my
new
favorite day of the week.
    But one warm Wednesday, I put on my favorite shirt . . .
and the sleeves were too tight! Mama said so. Uh-oh!
    Well, it took a lot less thought that time for things to
become clear . . .
    So I asked my mama, “Mama, dear . . .”

    And my new easy-breezy tank top became my
Thursday tank top (because Thursdays
are always the
hottest
summer days), and I wore it
every Thursday until . . .

    School! No tank tops, it’s the rule.
    So I asked my mama, “Mama, dear . . .”

    And my new cool-for-school skirt looked
just right

with my favorite tights! I wore it one Friday ,
and it
felt
just right, so I wore it every Friday
(my
new
favorite day of the week!).

    Until the Friday that Maggie Jean (the Fashion Queen
and my very bestest friend) said it was the
end
for skirts!
    â€œWithout a doubt,” she declared, “pants are
in
and
skirts are
out
!”
    But it was OK, don’t you know,
’cause just about then it started to snow.
    I showed my dear mama the snow. “Mama, see . . . ”

    And my scarf became my favoritest thing
to wear every snowy Saturday ,
the best play-in-the-snow day,
until the day . . .

    . . . my tassely scarf got caught in the door.
Uh-oh! The long, swaying ends (that were now
short and frayed) no longer swayed to and fro.
    At first I felt tears till I shook my head clear
and showed my new problem to Mama dear . . .

    I slipped those socks on my feet every Sunday ,
which was my
new
favoritest day of the week.
    Because on Sundays, we go to Grandma’s house with
the white-on-white wall-to-wall carpet, and Grandma’s
eyebrows silently invite us to remove our shoes.
    Why, hello, nifty new socks!
    Until a Sunday, in the morn,
when I found one sock, forlorn. Uh-oh!
    Mama said, “It’s very clear there’s not much left
of your dear, departed dress!”

    Pretty hair bow,
    It held my hair back on the
windiest days, on the swingiest swings,
and through my twirliest
twirls in ballet class.
    My hair bow, my pretty hair bow, was my
favoritest accessory, worn for all the world to see,
on Mondays , which are the
best
days ’cause
the week is new and shiny, until . . .

    My puppy, my
chewy
puppy, with the tiniest,
sharpest teeth the world has ever seen, chewed
my pretty hair bow into the tiniest scraps of fabric
I’d
ever seen!
    â€œPuppy, no!” Uh-oh. It was a bow no more.
    But by
now
, I knew not to have a
cow

when things go wrong.
    I scooped up those scraps and bits of my
Tuesday dress, the favoritest dress I’d ever had,
and made . . .

    . . . this!
    Now I can wear my favoritest dress
every day of every season of every year!
    I showed my mama, who said, “How
wonderful, dear!”
    And she smiled and said something about mountains
and molehills again, which still wasn’t clear . . .

    And
then
she looked me up and down with squinty
eyes and added, “Don’t panic, my dear, but I fear . . .
those
pants
look a little too short . . .”
    UH-OH!