Yesterday as I was cooking dinner in the kitchen (lemon pasta with shrimp, if it helps the setting), my daughter wandered in. “Mom,” she said, “what’s ‘Jiminy Crickets’?”
Admittedly, my first thought was Pinocchio. Isn’t it Pinocchio who has Jiminy Cricket as a buddy? But I answered in the context of something she’d understand: “It’s like ‘Leapin’ lizards,’” I told her, invoking Orphan Annie’s favorite exclamation. Both my kids have seen the movie Annie – both versions — on the order of fifty times, and my daughter has seen the musical live one and a half times.
“Oh,” she said. “Pa always says ‘Jiminy Crickets.’”
I nearly dropped the shrimp. She meant “Jerusalem crickets,” of course. My daughter was speaking Little House to me!
Let me update you. Those who might have followed along at home know that my daughter, who will turn seven next month, has a bit of an independent streak. Combined with her love of reading, this means that I dare not act as if I really, truly want her to read a particular book; that only results in fierce determination to avoid said book at all costs. This was certainly the case with Little House books. I gently suggested, and she ignored. In the end I decided to keep my mouth shut. I figured her time would come.
However, next month we will be going to Wisconsin. And Minnesota. And South Dakota. She’ll be seeing all the places mentioned in the books. Not only do I want her to experience them for all they’re worth, I know my daughter. If she goes to these places and finds out after the fact that she could have read all about Plum Creek and De Smet and Silver Lake before she went on the trip, she will be furious with me. (It won’t matter that I encouraged her. It won’t matter that it was her choice. That’s just how these things go. It is always Mom’s fault.)
On the advice of Beyond Little House’s own Rebecca, I made a suggestion to my daughter that I read On the Banks of Plum Creek to her aloud. To my surprise, she loved this idea. I squashed my cheers of joy and calmly started reading two chapters a night to her.
Then it happened, as I’d known it would. She began reading ahead on her own. The past few days she’s been speeding through, and now she’s only got four or five chapters left.
It was in the midst of this reading session that she decided to ask me about “Jiminy Crickets.” Funny, but when I think about the wonderful, delicious little phrases that say “Little House” unequivocally, “Jerusalem crickets” isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. What is?
The width of a gnat’s eyebrow.
Don’t give your work a lick and a promise.
There’s no great loss without some small gain.
It won’t be noticed on a trotting horse.
Marry in black, you’ll wish yourself back. (And, for that matter, something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue – though that connection has become diluted over the years as I realized just how widespread the phrase is).
Of course, rather like the temporary amnesia that sets in when one enters a video store and can’t recall what on earth she’d like to rent, now that I’m listing these quintissentially-Little House phrases, my mind is … blank.
Heck, my favorite phrases aren’t important. The real question is, what are yours? What phrases distinctly say “Little House” to you?
And of those, what are your favorites?