Thank You, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

Remembering Betty MacDonald’s series of children’s books

Did you ever read the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books by Betty MacDonald? I read them many times, and I still have my paperback copies (pictured above) of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s Magic, and Hello, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.

Although I know there was a short-lived TV show in the 1990s, and now a reboot of the book series co-authored by Ann M. Martin (with Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s great-niece taking over for the great lady herself), I think the original books are a little bit obscure.

I have a feeling the books might be unknown to most readers who grew up later than the 1980s, but please do prove me wrong if you found them later than this! Also, I wonder if they were more popular here in Washington state than anywhere else because we could claim the author as a local.

I loved many more well-known books and followed the adventures of a variety of fictional friends, from Winnie the Pooh to Anne Shirley. But I always had a special fondness for the commonsense, loving ways of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, who never had children of her own but was beloved by all the kids in the neighborhood. Oh, and she smelled like sugar cookies. What could be nicer?

As an English teacher, I’m usually pretty good about talking about literary works in the present tense, but Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle almost feels like a real person to me, as real as Betty MacDonald who wrote the books in the voice of a neighbor describing Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle and her ways. It’s like talking about someone from my childhood who was elderly back then, and that was forty years ago.

I had three of the four books that Mrs. MacDonald wrote, and I loved all three. I never cared much for Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s Farm and only borrowed it from the library. For starters, why was she on a farm? We knew she loved living in the upside-down house where the late Mr. Piggle-Wiggle had buried pirate treasure for her to find.

The farm book was illustrated by Maurice Sendak, while the other three were illustrated by Hilary Knight (of Eloise fame). Of course, I liked Mr. Sendak’s other work (who doesn’t?), but he didn’t have the light and happy touch that Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle required.

Each book held a collection of stand-alone stories, so whenever I felt a little blue or grumpy — or when I just wanted something that I knew for sure that I’d enjoy— I’d ask my mom to read me one (or more) of the stories.

I read them to myself, too. Even as a grownup, I’ve sometimes read them when I needed a fifteen-minute vacation to a place where Mrs. Broomrack and Mrs. Moohead were waiting to pick up the phone and offer one unhelpful parenting tip after another until someone finally suggested that the harried mom in each story might want to call Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.

The books came from the postwar suburbia of the 1940s and 1950s and definitely show their age. But Mrs. MacDonald was a parent herself and humor writer with a knowing, conversational voice, and many of her observations about kids and the difficulties of parenting still ring true.

The idea of the books is that Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle has magical cures to help with common childhood issues. She acts as the practical, unassuming counterpoint to the old-school, paternal pediatrician, and she helps in her gentle way when kids cop attitudes or refuse to take baths or insist on staying up late.

I have to say that when I sat down to read some of the stories to my former foster daughter, I had to do some quick editing to delete the spankings that were threatened and sometimes delivered by the parents in the books. Of course, once the parents sought out Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s help, they had no need for such measures, but in the versions I reshaped as I read them aloud, I made sure the kids only got sent to their rooms.

It’s interesting what we forgot or maybe never fully noticed about what we loved as kids until we revisit those things as a grownup with a child sitting beside us. I guess it’s kind of like how we don’t realize how hard it is to parent until we’re faced with our own three-year-old friend who won’t wear either of the two shirts we’ve taken out of the dresser for her (per the advice of the parenting book that promised she’d choose one of the two options).

As it came out when she was just turning six, I bought my foster daughter the first book of the rebooted series, Missy Piggle-Wiggle and the Whatever Cure, but she never wanted me to read it to her. Maybe she’ll be talking about The Owl Diaries thirty years from now instead.

Did you have a series of books you so loved as a child that they offered a cozy and familiar presence in your life? I’d be interested to know if you want to share in the comments.