I Wanted It First

When Greta got the kitten and I didn't, I had a green hot feeling.

The kitten was small and grey. The kitten lived in Greta's house. The kitten purred when Greta picked it up. The kitten did not even know who I was.

When Greta talked about the kitten — and Greta talked about the kitten ALL THE TIME — the green hot feeling got bigger.

I started not going to Greta's house. I said I was busy. I was not busy. I was just full of green hot feeling.

Mama saw. Mama said, "What's the matter?"

"Greta has a kitten," I said.

Mama waited.

"And I don't."

Mama nodded. She didn't say it was silly. She said, "That's a hard one."

She made hot chocolate. We sat with it. The green hot feeling got a tiny bit smaller.

"Greta misses you," Mama said. "She told her mama. The kitten is a good kitten, but you are her best friend."

I went to Greta's that afternoon.

The kitten sat on Greta's lap. Then it sat on my lap, mostly because my lap had biscuit crumbs on it. We laughed.

The green hot feeling did not vanish. It just made room. There is room enough for a kitten and a best friend and a small green hot feeling, all in the same afternoon.