My name is Flo and I have a little sister called Iggy. I am nine and Iggy is six. We are each otherâs only sister.
One morning, when we were walking to school, Iggy asked Mum a question.
She started with, âPlease may canâ¦â
I know that when Iggy uses all her polite words at once, she is really hoping for a âyesâ. She says, âPlease may can we have an ice cream and a biscuit?â and âPlease may can we go on a bike ride and a picnic and sleep in a tent?â
âPlease may can we have a baby?â Iggy asked, with her sweetest good-idea smile.
Mum slowed down, just a little bit.
âNo, Iggy, I donât think so.â
âHow come?â said Iggy, and she looked a bit deflated, like an old balloon.
âJust because.â
Iggy said that wasnât a reason.
âTrue,â said Mum. âYouâve got me there.â
âSo why not?â Iggy asked, and then she added another, âPleeease,â with extra eeâs, just to be on the safe side.
âIâve had my babies,â Mum said, and she took our hands, mine and then Iggyâs. âYou, and you.â
âYou can have more than two children.â Iggy smiled, like that solved it.
âI know that.â Mum smiled back.
Iggy told her, âThomas Wilkesâs mum has got eight.â
âNine,â I said.
âNine?â said Mum.
âYes.â I counted on my fingers. âThomas, Ruby, Emma, James, Sophie, Will, Patrick, Sarah and Ben.â
âWow,â said Mum. âNine.â
âJames is in my class,â I said, âand Thomas is in Iggyâs. Thatâs how we know. When they go to the supermarket, they have to buy nine of everything.â
Iggy counted, âNine toothbrushes, nine pairs of pants, nine packets of lemon drizzle cakes.â
Iggy loves lemon drizzle cake.
I said, âThe Wilkesâs house is full of people and noise all the time, even when itâs just them.â
Mum frowned. âWell, Mr and Mrs Wilkes might have wanted nine children, but two is enough for me and your dad. Thatâs what we decided. One under each arm in an emergency.â
âWhat emergency?â I said.
Iggy was quiet for a minute. âYou and Dad have got four arms. Thereâs room for two more.â
âGood maths,â Mum said, but she didnât tell me what the emergency was.
âWill you and Dad change your minds?â Iggy said.
âNo,â said Mum. âAbsolutely not,â and she ruffled my hair and gave Iggy her school bag and kissed her goodbye on the nose.
Iggy doesnât do âabsolutely notsâ. In Iggyâs ears, an âabsolutely notâ is always a âmaybeâ.
When Mum says, âAbsolutely not,â about a thing, Iggy goes and asks Dad. And when Dad says, âAbsolutely not,â she double checks with Mum. Iggy thinks thereâs always a chance sheâll get lucky. Sometimes she does.
So later, at suppertime, Iggy asked Dad the question too.
âPlease may can you and Mum please have one or two more babies?â
Dadâs mouth fell open. It was a bit full of supper.
âEwww!â Iggy said, looking away and shielding her eyes with her hands. âManners!â
Dad finished his mouthful. âI thought you were going to ask me to pass the salt or the butter. I didnât think you were going to ask for babies.â
âCan you?â Iggy said. âHave one or two?â
âNo,â said Mum.
âWe can,â Dad said, âbut we might not want to.â
Iggy huffed with confusion. âWhat does that mean? Do you want to, or not?â
âNot,â said Dad.
âDefinitely not,â said Mum.
âPlease?â said Iggy.
âAbsolutely not,â said Mum again.
âLetâs talk about something else,â said Dad. âHow was your day, Flo? What did you learn at school?â
I started to tell Dad all about solids and liquids and gases, because thatâs what weâve been doing in Science. Iggy was scowling into her soup, which is a liquid.
âI want one,â she said.
âWell, you can have one of your own,â Mum said. âWhen youâre older.â
âYowch!â said Iggy. âIâm not doing that. Not ever.â
Dad and Mum looked at each other and smiled.
âMaybe youâll change your mind,â said Mum.
âNo way,â said Iggy, and she squeezed her eyes tight shut and shook her head.
âOh well,â said Dad, helping himself to more cauliflower. âNo babies for you then. Never mind.â
âWhere were we?â Mum said. âWhat were you saying, Flo?â
âItâs not fair,â said Iggy, interrupting again, before I could even get started.
Not fair is Iggyâs explanation for a lot of things.
When Mum says no to sweets, itâs not fair.
When Iggy has to go to bed half an hour before me, itâs not fair.
When we have rice and broccoli with our supper and Iggy wants chips and beans, itâs not fair.
When Iggy decides we should go swimming and to the zoo and out for pizza and we donât because itâs only a Wednesday and not anybodyâs birthday, itâs not fair.
âHere we go,â said Dad, and he rolled his eyes and winked at me.
âBut I really want a little brother or sister,â she moaned. âAnd it really isnât fair.â