Jenny nodded.

"And ... be careful," I added.

Jenny was sitting cross-legged, the book spread open in front of her. She dipped the paintbrush in the water and moved it slowly toward the book. Drip, drip, drip. Three wet spots appeared on her dress.

I closed my eyes. It was only water. Still. . . .

"Jenny, wouldn't you like to put on play-clothes while you paint?" I thought she must own something more casual than what she had on.

"No."

"No? Not even a smock? We could put it on over your dress."

"No."

"How about one of Mommy's aprons?"

"I DON'T WANT AN APRON!"

I watched Jenny smear the paintbrush over a big apple on the page. The apple turned red. Jenny lifted the brush and returned it to the cup. So far, so good.

I relaxed a little.

Then Jenny swung the wet brush back to the book. Two faint pink streaks appeared on her dress. Oh, well, I thought. It must come out with water.

But I wasn't sure. I decided that Jenny would have to wear an apron whether she liked it or not, and I dashed into the kitchen. I had just found one when I heard Jenny say, "Oops."

"Jenny?" I called. "What happened?"

There was a pause. "Nothing."

A nothing is usually the worst kind of something. I ran back to Jenny — and gasped. She had spilled the entire cup of water in her lap. A huge pinkish stain was spreading fast.

"Oh, Jenny!" I exclaimed.

Jenny stared at me with wide eyes. She looked as if she were daring me to do something.

"Okay. Off with your dress. Right now."

"NONONONONONONO!" Jenny threw herself on her stomach and began kicking her legs on the floor.

I took advantage of that to unbutton her

dress. "Off it comes/' I said. "Then I'll show you some magic."

Jenny stopped kicking and yelling. "Magic?"