“Can I have a song, too?” the little girl asked sweetly.I thought for a few seconds, nodded, and told her: ‘absolutely’. I played “Thank Hea...en for Little Girls.” Truth be known, it sounded better when Maurice Chevalier sang it, but the little girl laughed, clapped, gave me a wet kiss on the cheek, and thanked me for ‘her song’.I begged off more songs for the night telling them I’d been playing most of the afternoon and my fingers were sore. I sat back sipping coffee, listening to the evening. “mohan etten is angry isn’t he? You are not looking at me?” she asked. “why did you ignore me yesterday? You pretended to be so busy yesterday”“granny was around and i was afraid you would touch me. If she saw that it would be the end of me. I hope you understand. Don’t be angry etta….,” she begged me in a sexy voice. I could not hold my anger any more.I quickly finished washing my face and asked her, “what is for breakfast today?”“this!” she said. I looked up to see her holding up both her. More

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