Ballad of Little Arlene
She was lean, she was mean, a fighting machine.
Sixteen brothers had toughened her up.
She was secret woman, our little Arlene.
Raised on cold kerosene from a cup.
Our mother had passed when Arlene came into the world,
On a horribly stormy and mean October Saturday night.
We all crowded around, as the drama unfurled,
Sixteen brothers, and a dad, oh, so tight.
We dressed her in our best hand-me-downs, the best fellows all around.
And took turns with her feedings, up until a quarter ‘til three.
Dressed in blue overalls, and short-named Arley, she loved to run around.
Like a wild thing, thinking she was a boy, the best she could be.
When she started to school, the teachers wanted her to change F to M,
Thinking she was a boy, a fellow, one of the guys, which she thought she was.
Until one accidentally discovered she was girl, but knew nothing of fem.
Then them teachers started horning in teaching her to cook and sew and stuff.
Pa and us stood helplessly by, as they tried to change Little Arley into a girl.
It was great when she could make delicious chili soup and cheese cake surprise
But we were all irritated at sixteen when she started wearing girl clothes,
And got her eyes on some idiotic seventeen-year-old not-so-great guys.
She went to the prom, and we all followed along in our pick-up trucks and RVs.
She was our baby, and we were not about to let anything change our family’s way.
Five years later we followed her and her new husband to Texas, so he could see.
She was our baby, and we were not going to let her move so far away.
The marriage did not last, and we have lots of reasons and thinking about the why.
But she is home with pa now, safely tucked away, with her wedding dress on the closet door.
Making chili and pastries, and other good stuff like molasses cookies and pumpkin pie.
Home where she belongs, wild and crazy as ever, Little Arlene, we always knew before.
Little Arlene, the best auntie around,
Little Arlene, the one our children adore.
Little Arlene, the best sister we have found,
Little Arlene, home for ever more.
Little Arlene, Little Arlene, Little Arlene!
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