53

WE’RE IN THE KITCHEN CLEANING up after pancake breakfast when Daddy says, “I believe
another one of the Song girls has a birthday coming up.” He sings, “You are sixteen, going on
seventeen.. .” I feel a strong surge of love for him, my dad who I am so lucky to have.
“What song are you singing?” Kitty interrupts.
I take Kitty’s hands and spin her around the kitchen with me. “I am sixteen, going on seventeen; I
know that I’m naive. Fellows I meet may tell me I’m sweet; willingly I believe.”
Daddy throws his dish towel over his shoulder and marches in place. In a deep voice he baritones,
“You need someone older and wiser telling you what to do.. .”
“This song is sexist,” Kitty says as I dip her.
“Indeed it is,” Daddy agrees, swatting her with the towel. “And the boy in question was not, in
fact, older and wiser. He was a Nazi in training.”
Kitty skitters away from both of us. “What are you guys even talking about?”
“It’s from The Sound of Music,” I say.
“You mean that movie about the nun? Never seen it.”
“How have you seen The Sopranos but not The Sound of Music?”
Alarmed, Daddy says, “Kitty’s been watching The Sopranos?”
“Just the commercials,” Kitty quickly says.
I go on singing to myself, spinning in a circle like Liesl at the gazebo. “I am sixteen going on
seventeen, innocent as a rose.... Fellows I meet may tell me I’m sweet, and willingly I believe... .”
“Why would you just willingly believe some random fellows you don’t even know?”
“It’s the song, Kitty, not me! God!” I stop spinning. “Liesl was kind of a ninny, though. I mean, it
was basically her fault they almost got captured by the Nazis.”
“I would venture to say it was Captain von Trapp’s fault,” Daddy says. “Rolfe was a kid himself
—he was going to let them go, but then Georg had to antagonize him.” He shakes his head. “Georg
von Trapp, he had quite the ego. Hey, we should do a Sound of Music night!”
“Sure,” I say.
“This movie sounds terrible,” Kitty says. “What kind of name is Georg?”
We ignore her. Daddy says, “Tonight? I’ll make tacos al pastor!”
“I can’t,” I say. “I’m going over to Belleview.”
“What about you, Kitty?” Daddy asks.
“Sophie’s mom is teaching us how to make latke cakes,” Kitty says. “Did you know that you put
applesauce on top of them and it’s delicious?”
Daddy’s shoulders slump. “Yes, I did know that. I’m going to have to start booking you guys a
month in advance.”
“Or you could invite Ms. Rothschild over,” Kitty suggests. “Her weekends are pretty lonely too.”
He gives her a funny look. “I’m sure she has plenty she’d rather do than watch The Sound of Music
with her neighbor.”
Brightly I say, “Don’t forget the tacos al pastor! Those are a draw, too. And you, of course. You’re
a draw.”