One summer day, I was walking down the block toward home when I came upon a cluster of little girls I recognized setting up a folding table in front of one of their homes.  Ooh, a lemonade stand I thought.  But when I got closer,  Fiona yelled “Do you want to buy some art?  We’re having an art sale!”  

I’m fond of these girls. They’re cousins who live next door to each other Their grandma lives across the street.  Four year old sister Penelope has been bossing her grandma around since she could talk.  She was  never satisfied with the speed or direction of her stroller rides. Her six year old sister Kennedy is quiet and shy. She barely looked up to acknowledge me when we’d crossed paths before.  Four year old cousin Lydia keeps a close eye on people passing by and comments on their attire.  “I like your scarf.”  Her six year old sister Fiona is clearly the boss and it’s common to hear the others screaming “Fiona!” at the top of their lungs.  The little boys on the block fear them.  I have seen more than one fleeing in tears.  Some of the neighbors refer to them as the “pussy posse” but I have mad respect for their fierce bond.

So when they asked if I wanted to buy their art I said, “Of course,  What do you have?”

“Oh, we don’t have anything yet,” said Fiona. “What would you like us to draw?” 

“Could you draw a picture of Penelope?” I asked.  Sassy Penelope is so cute with her hair styled into two adorable puff balls.  

“Sure,” said Fiona, “that will be $5.”  

“No, Fiona!” I hear her grandma yell from the door.  “That’s too much!”  We both chuckle.  

“I’ll give you one dollar but I have to go home to get my money.  I’ll come back in a little while.”  

I went home, had a snack and returned to the big art sale with my dollar.  There was a lot of furious drawing going on with colored pencils but it wasn’t done yet.  So I walked around the block again.  

My drawing was still not done and there were no other customers in sight.  “OK.  I’ll come back a little later.” Back home, I sat down with my lap top to check emails.  About 5 minutes in, I hear furious pounding on the front door.  It was the girls.  At last my art is done, I thought.  I didn’t even have the door open an inch when the four of them muscled their way in.  They split up in different directions all over the house. Penelope  was in my bedroom stroking the brightly colored quilt on my bed.  Lydia was checking out the bathroom and opening and closing drawers. Kennedy was admiring the abstract art in my living room.  Fiona opened my refrigerator and asked if I had any snacks.  “I have some grapes,” I offered and they descended upon them like vultures. I was happy to share but shocked by their boldness.

“Well, let me see the drawing of Penelope.” I demanded.  “Fiona wrecked it,” said Kennedy with a sob.  I could see that someone had scribbled out Penelope’s darling brown puff balls with a red pencil.  Oh well.  I wasn’t expecting a Rembrandt.  Just trying to support local artists.  So, I produced my $1 and handed it over to Fiona.  

“Don’t you have any more money?” she asked.  

“No,” I said.  

“What about the other person who lives here?” Fiona said with a sneer.

 “He’s not home right now.”

  “Can’t you steal it from him?”  No!  “What about jewelry?”  

That was the last straw.

“Ok.  Thank you for the drawing. It’s time to go girls,” I said.  

Fiona took my dollar and they fled like a pack of hyenas in search of their next victim.  I collapsed into my armchair baffled by their audacity.  And then I dissolved into a fit of laughter.  I can’t believe this just happened!  Yet I admire their fearlessness.  I thought about telling their grandma all about it the next time I saw her but decided I didn’t want to do anything to get them in trouble.  Grandma wouldn’t give them more than a stern lecture but I was just a little afraid of the possible repercussions for being a snitch.  

I’ve lived in this neighborhood for over 20 years and I love it.  It’s the kind of neighborhood where people shovel snow for their older neighbors, where there’s a steady stream of conscientious dog walkers, where multiple little free libraries flourish.  But mostly, it’s a neighborhood where girls rule.   I kept that messy colored pencil drawing of Penelope on my refrigerator as a reminder of that fact for the next year.