Because she’s been afraid so much lately, I have been screening Grace’s television programs even more carefully than usual.

I don’t want to create any extra fodder for the nightmares.

There are only a handful of shows that she watches on a semi-regular basis: Wonder Pets, Sesame Street, Barney, and The Wiggles, and a few others that I’ll put on if an episode shows up in the Tivo queue: Curious George, Blue’s Clues, Max & Ruby.

Favorites come and go. First, she adored Barney. Later, she chose Sesame Street over the others. These days, she’s partial to the Wonder Pets.

Because we have five or six episodes of the Pets on Tivo, and Grace chooses them over most other shows, we’re all learning the tunes to the songs. It’s unavoidable since every episode has the same basic melody.

The phone. The phone is ringing! The phone! We’ll be right there! The phone! The phone is ringing! There’s an animal in trouble! There’s an animal in trouble! There’s an animal in trouble somewhere!

Wonder Pets, Wonder Pets, we’re on our way, to help a baby _______ and save the day! We’re not too big, and we’re not too tough. But when we work together, we’ve got the right stuff! Go Wonder Pets!

You get the idea.

It just so happens that two of the episodes we’ve watched recently involved the Big Bad Wolf. The same silly wolf plagues both Little Red Riding Hood and the 3 Little Pigs.

At first, Grace was scared of the Big Bad Wolf, so we paused the Tivo and sang his song.

I’m big; I’m bad. I’m bad; I’m big.

We used our surliest voices and danced around the living room growling at each other until we could no longer sing for the giggling.

It worked. Grace wasn’t afriad of the Big Bad Wolf any more.

I’d forgotten all about the Big Bad Wolf until this evening when Joe, Grace, and I were working in the back yard.

I was pruning my rose bushes. Joe was building the swing set that Pappy bought Grace for her second birthday. Grace was playing and running between us.

She climbed up to the top of her Little Tykes slide (about two feet off the ground), grinned, and started singing in her surly voice.

I’m big; I’m bad. I’m bad; I’m big.

Joe and I looked at each other and burst into laughter.

And that, of course, made the singing continue, only louder.

I’m big; I’m bad. I’m bad; I’m big.

I think I might start calling her Big Bad instead Little Pumpkin.

This is a step in the right direction.

Happily submitted to Works for Me Wednesday