Flyy Girl Read Online Free

entered the house.
    â€œDaddy, how did I get like this?” Tracy asked, raising her arms.
    Dave stretched out on the couch, failing to notice his daughter’s raised arms. He stared up at the ceiling with his head plumped on a cushion.
    â€œDaddy?”
    â€œYes, pretty,” he answered her wearily.
    Tracy raised her arms in front of him.
    â€œHow did I get tanner than mommy and lighter than you?”
    â€œBecause, God did it,” Dave told her. He then closed his eyes.
    â€œGod did it?” Tracy mumbled to herself. Confused by her father’s simple answer, she decided to crawl up on his chest and rest there on the couch with him.
    â€œHello, hello, sleepy-heads,” Patti said, stepping through the front door an hour later. She hung up her jacket and immediately headed for the kitchen.
    Tracy got up off her daddy’s chest and followed her mother. “Can I help you, mommy?” she asked with wide eyes.
    â€œUnh hunh, now get the little frying pan.”
    â€œOkay . . . Now what?”
    â€œAll right, now get the Kool-Aid mix.”
    â€œOkay, mommy . . . Here, mom, now what?”
    â€œGo upstairs in my room and bring down the cups and bowls so mommy can wash them out.”
    â€œOkay, mom. I’ll be right back.” Tracy ran up the stairs and grabbed all the dishes she could find. “What now, mom?” she asked, running back inside the kitchen and breathing heavily.
    â€œAren’t you full of energy,” Patti commented. “Well, why don’t you go and see if your father needs any help.”
    â€œOkay,” Tracy said, running. She tugged on her father’s arm at the living-room couch. “Daddy, wake up.”
    â€œYes, pretty?” he answered, with his eyes still closed.
    â€œCan I help you with something?”
    â€œYeah, sweetheart. Can you help your dad get up?”
    Tracy looked at his long, lean body and remembered the last time she had tried, unsuccessfully, to lift him. She stepped back and shook her head. “No, I can’t lift you, dad.”
    â€œYup, well, I guess you can’t help dad then,” Dave responded to her.
    Tracy, still filled with energy, hurried back to help her mother in the kitchen.
    â€œWell, did you help your dad, sweety?” Patti asked her.
    â€œNo-o-o. Because he want me to help him to get up, and I don’t have no muscles,” Tracy whined.
    Patti laughed at her. “You have muscles; they just aren’t strong enough to lift your dad.”
    â€œWell, when I grow up, I’m gonna have bigger muscles. Right, mommy?” Tracy asked, tugging on her mother’s apron.
    â€œYup, and you’re gonna be as tall and as pretty as me.”
    Tracy smiled, pleased with herself. “I’m gonna marry me a man like dad, too.”
    Patti gave her a curious smile. “Do you like boys yet, Tracy?” she asked of her young daughter.
    â€œNO! Boys get on my nerves!” Tracy shouted.
    Patti chuckled. “Why do you say that?” she quizzed.
    Tracy pressed her little hand on her hip and shook her head. “Because, ’dey rough and bad. And this boy named Aaron hit my friend Pam today,” she huffed.
    â€œWhy did he do that?” Patti asked her.
    â€œâ€Šâ€™Cause his friend Tommy knocked Judy down when ’ney was playing ball, and Pam was gon’ hit him for it. So then Aaron came to get in it for Tommy, and he punched Pam in her neck.”
    â€œWell, did she try to hit him back?”
    â€œYeah, she tried to hit him first, but he blocked it with his arm.”
    â€œDid the boy get in trouble?”
    â€œMmm hmm, but he didn’t even care though.”
    â€œYeah, he sounds like a bad boy,” Patti said, continuing with her cooking.
    â€œMy friend Judy said that boys who hit girls are sissies. Is that true, mom?”
    â€œWho told her that?” Patti quizzed, turning to face her daughter.
    â€œShe said that her