I'd like to see a few changes around here. I'd like to be allowed to choose my own clothes. I'd like to take my hair out of these braids. I'd like to wear nail polish and stockings and lipstick. And if a boy ever asked me to go to the movies or something, I'd like to be able to say yes — without even checking with you first. You know what? Sometimes you don't seem like my father to me. You seem like my jailer."

It was at that exact moment that I knew I'd gone too far.

Sure enough, my father turned his back on me. Then, in the calmest voice imaginable, he said, "Mary Anne, the subject is closed. Please go to your room."

I went. I felt horrible. I knew I'd insulted him, and I hadn't wanted to do that. But what did he think was going to happen if I wore my hair loose or took down Humpty Dumpty? Did he think I'd run away or start hanging around with the wild kids at the mall? And what could happen between nine o'clock and ten o'clock while I was baby-sitting, that couldn't happen before nine?

I didn't have any answers, but I knew someone who might — Mimi. She was a patient listener and I often talked to her about things that I might have talked to my mother about. At any rate, I talked to her about things I couldn't discuss with my father.

I paid her a visit after school the next day. I had apologized twice to my father that morning, and he'd said he accepted my apology, but things were a little chilly between us.

"Hi, Mimi," I greeted her, when she answered the bell.

"Hello, Mary Anne," she said solemnly. "How is your scarf coming?"

"Fine. It looks really nice. I hope my father will like it. If I work hard, I could finish it in time for his birthday."

"That would be a nice surprise for him." I shrugged out of my coat, and Mimi hung it in the closet. "Well," she went on, "are you here to see Claudia? She is not at home. I believe she is baby-sitting for Nina and Eleanor Marshall."