Maxzyne Meets the Mannequins

She turns the fins toward each other. Then she pretends they can talk.

“Can I go to the sleepover?”

“Can’t!” the right one answers.

“Can I go to the Easter Egg Hunt?”

“Can’t!”

“Can I get my own cell phone?”

“Can’t”

“Can I go swim in the pool?”

“Can’t!” Maxzyne kicks and flops backwards on the bed.

“Ten years old and all I can do is CAN’T!” she groans.

She raises her legs, doing a lazy frog kick in the air. “Dad says when you’ve got a problem, break it down. That way, if you think about each part very carefully, you can figure out what to do.” She brings the fins together, arching them in graceful sweeps above her head.

“ONE: the indoor pool’s just twelve floors down, and I can get there on the elevator. TWO: it’s not like I could drown. It’s only four feet deep.” She crosses and uncrosses her legs in the air. Then she reaches up, trying to touch the fin tips. “THREE: I took swimming lessons last summer. Yes!” She punches the air with her fist. “Give me a break. I can do it!” She waves her finned feet back and forth. Then she flops her legs down on the bed again with a satisfied smile. “Problem solved!”