I was in the woods behind our cabin, trying yet again to dissuade my daughter from this wizarding business.
“I _like_ magic,” Mel protested. “And I’m good at it. Remember the spell I made up last week?”
“The spell that changed my daggers into caterpillars?” James and I were still pulling cocoons out of the laundry.
“No, the other one.”
I crossed my arms and did my best to look parental. “The one that sent my undergarments on a mad dash for freedom?”
She covered her mouth, trying to hide a gap-toothed grin. “I got it right the next time. Don’t your clothes smell nicer?”
“They do… those that aren’t hightailing it for the border.”
It was no use. After two years, I knew I couldn’t win, but I kept trying. James and I thought that if we could teach her another skill, something respectable…..
Rated PG. Contains ghost cats, precocious girls, and amorous spouse-stealers.
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