(May 6, 2026)
(The first stories of an evolving series.)
Snow Drift & Grocery Store Heist
The sun comes up stubborn in Wasilla, Alaska. It takes its time, peeking over the Talkeetna Mountains like it knows the whole valley is still under three quilts. That’s when Dad’s voice rumbles down the hallway, warm as the woodstove:
“Rise and shine, my little lovelies. The day’s wasting daylight.”
Bitty — that’s Brandy, age 6, freckles and missing front tooth — throws her covers off like she’s launching a rocket. “Dad! I’m not a little lovely, I’m a MEDIUM lovely! I grew last night!” She measures herself against the doorframe with a crayon mark. “See? One whole pancake taller!”
Dasah — Hadassah, 3, curls and eyelashes for days — toddles out in footie pajamas, clutching her stuffed moose. She looks up at Dad, serious as a judge. “Dada, I cold.”
Dad scoops them both up, one under each arm like sacks of flour. He kisses Bitty’s forehead, then Dasah’s nose. “Can’t have my little lovelies turning into popsicles. That’s my job — keeping you two warm.”
And they are beautiful, these two. Bitty with her wild sun-colored hair that won’t stay in a ponytail, and Dasah with her big brown eyes that see right into you. Dad tells them every night: “God made the northern lights, and then He figured He better make my little lovelies, just to show off.”
Adventure #1: The Great Snowdrift Expedition
By 10am the backyard is a kingdom of white. Dad zips Dasah into her pink snowsuit until she looks like a marshmallow with boots. Bitty’s already outside, declaring herself “Captain Bitty of the Snow Pirates.”
“Dad, Dad, quick! We gotta rescue Rowdy!”
Rowdy is their dog — half Pomeranian, half Dachshund, 100% chaos in a fur coat. He’s currently buried to his eyeballs in a drift, only his floofy tail wiggling like a flag.
Dad raises an eyebrow. “Captain Bitty, what’s the plan?”
Bitty puts her hands on her hips. “Step one: we dig. Step two: we don’t eat yellow snow. Step three…” She pauses, thinking hard. “Step three is snack time.”
Dasah nods, very serious. “Snack time important.”
So they dig. Dad hauls Rowdy out and the dog shakes, spraying them all with snow. Dasah shrieks and dives into Bitty’s arms. Bitty starts laughing so hard she snorts — which makes Dasah laugh, which makes Rowdy bark, which makes Dad shake his head.
“My little lovelies,” he says, brushing snow off Dasah’s hood, “you two could melt a glacier just giggling.”
Adventure #2: The Grocery Store Heist
Inside Three Bears, Bitty pushes the cart while Dasah rides up front like a queen. Dad’s got the list.
Bitty leans over to Dasah and whispers, loud enough for the whole freezer aisle to hear: “Pssst. We gotta get cookies for survival. It’s the Alaskan way.”
Dasah gasps. “Sur-vi-val!”
Dad doesn’t look up from the oranges. “Captain Bitty, are you corrupting your sister again?”
“Me?” Bitty lays a hand over her heart, innocent as can be. “Dad, I would NEVER. I’m just… educating her about emergency rations. Like a moose.”
Dad finally cracks a smile. “A moose?”
“Yeah! Moose are experts at survival, and they’re big, and I’m gonna be big someday, so basically I’m a moose trainee.”
The lady in line behind them starts laughing. Dasah claps. “Bitty moose!”
Dad drops a box of cookies into the cart and winks. “For my little lovelies. And one moose trainee.”
Adventure #3: The Northern Lights Watch
That night it’s -10° and clear. Dad wakes them at 11pm, bundles them in blankets, and carries them to the porch. Rowdy dances around their feet.
The sky rips open in green and purple. Dasah goes still in Dad’s arms, her mouth a little ‘o’. Bitty leans against his side.
“Dad,” Bitty whispers, “do you think the lights are dancing ‘cause they saw us?”
Dad pulls the blanket tighter around his little lovelies, keeping them warm. “I think the lights came out ‘cause they heard there were two beautiful little young ladies down here. Had to come see for themselves.”
Dasah reaches up and pats his cheek. “We keep you warm too, Dada.”
Bitty snuggles closer. “Yeah. We protect each other. That’s the Lovely Law. Right, Dasah?”
Dasah nods, solemn. “Lovey Law.”
Rowdy sneezes. All three of them dissolve into giggles, and the sound floats up, mixing with the lights.
Dad looks at Bitty — funny, fierce, 6-going-on-16 — and Dasah — sweet, strong, 3-going-on-wise — and his chest goes tight in the best way.
“Yep,” he says, quiet, so only the sky and Rowdy and his girls can hear. “My little lovelies. My whole world.”
And in Wasilla, under the dancing sky, the Little Lovelies were warm, and safe, and already dreaming up tomorrow’s adventure.