It was a blistering and furiously windy, Santa-Ana day when Penelope first came home to her new family. Sick from being overheated by a day out in the sun, she spent most of that first week being carried around by her new big sister and hand-fed by her new mom. Though she loved the attention, Penelope wanted more than anything to be well enough to play. Like all babies, she cried. A lot. Mostly for food, but sometimes because she was lonely, missing the family she was separated from, and not knowing exactly where it was that she had ended up. It didn't take long, however, for Penelope to fit into her new home, with her new siblings, and her new parents. And fit in, she did.
When Penelope regained her strength, her personality was larger than life. She was a sweetheart, gentle but not completely submissive. She was inquisitive to the point of being in danger: touching what shouldn't be touched, tasting what shouldn't be tasted, and sleeping in places that shouldn't be slept in. She loved to climb things but still needed assistance, being as little as she was. And she was always up for cuddles, be it during the early morning hours when everyone else in her family would rather be asleep, or in the middle of the day, when her mom had other things to do, or late at night, when her brothers and sisters were exhausted and no longer interested in playing or telling her stories.
Penelope, though her early months of life were a struggle she was lucky to survive, learned quickly that a certain cry could get her a certain thing. Was she hungry? She had a piercing shout for that. Was she bored? She had a lazy whine for that. Was she tired? She had a tremendous cry for that. But it wasn't just her vocal chords that grew along with her body, she also became a very smart girl, who by the time Christmas came, was more curious than ever before. Because something amazing and confusing began to happen in her house.
First, things began to disappear. Her concern was palpable. Was the family moving somewhere else, like her first had done? Would they leave Penelope behind? She couldn't take care of herself yet, not quite, so the idea that the home she had begun to fit into over the last several months would vanish began to eat her up like a sort of starvation. Her tummy hurt, her cries went from frequent to hushed. Because Penelope didn't want to upset her family. She didn't want them to forget about her, but she also didn't want them to see a reason to abandon her. So, she did what any very young girl would do: she watched. As the things that her family had collected over the years began to be boxed up, Penelope was surprised to see new things appear in their place. Fuzzy things that they wouldn't let her touch, crunchy things that they wouldn't let her eat, and round things on strings that were so tempting for Penelope to grab, but they wouldn't let her have. She began to get so frustrated, that she found herself moving around their feet, curiously cautious, but they always told her, 'No Penelope', picked her up, and then set her carefully on the other side of the room by herself or with her big brother, who was completely undaunted and uninterested in the strange chaos happening every day. He told her he'd seen this madness before.
And then, something spectacular came. She'd seen the item of amazement outside their windows before, but not like what her parents began to erect in the middle of the family room. It was a tree, but it smelled funny and felt even funnier. Like a toy, but again, they wouldn't let her near it. It had poky ends they were afraid would get into her eyes, and it slowly began to get covered with twinkling lights and dangling things that made the temptation to touch unbearable. Mom told Dad that Penelope might get so curious about this new tree, that she'd pull on it, or somehow knock it down and hurt herself or the special dangling things hanging off the branches, so she watched late one night, as her parents put back some of the things they had just unpacked, calling them big words like, 'delicate', and 'irreplaceable'. They didn't trust Penelope to do as she was told. So, she pouted. When her mom tried to hug her that night, she pushed her away. When her oldest sister tried to cuddle with her before bed, she cried until she was taken into another room. She was no longer allowed to explore the floor on her own. Penelope had become a prisoner in her own home. This simply would not do.
