Mabel’s House Re-Post: Beverly’s Magical Closet

*originally posted October 2010

You know when you dig around in the back of a closet and find something you forgot you had? I did that yesterday. I rifled through spare gift bags and dollar store candles and found some Martha Stewart cake stencils I bought over two years ago.

My first reaction was to slap myself on the forehead. Doh. Silly me. How could I buy something so cute and forget I had it?

And then I remembered Aunt Beverly’s magical closet.

My Aunt Beverly has always had what my cousins and I refer to as “The Closet.” Inside said closet lay forgotten jewels; gifts, bags, purses, bows, wrapping paper, and even toys from McDonald’s Happy Meals. Watching her open that door and unearth such treasures was like the girl version of Indian Jones.

Aunt Beverly would fling the closet door open when we were leaving her house. Mom would don our coats and hats and tell us to kiss Aunt Beverly goodbye and she would shout, “Wait just a minute!” She would hunker down in her closet, pulling out treats for us.

“Elizabeth, do you need a pink dress for your Barbie? I have one right here.”

“Rebecca, do you want a water gun? How about a paddle ball?”

They were our parting gifts. Aunt Beverly’s way of giving us treats just because she loved us. Over the years that closet has rendered aid in tight situations. Forgot to buy a baby shower present? Visit Aunt Beverly’s closet.

“How about a set of bottles and a headband? Huh. Here’s a set of steak knives. I forgot I bought those.”

I always marveled at this closet. It was a magical place, sort of like something from Harry Potter. But I could never understand how Aunt Beverly could forget she bought steak knives and embroidered baby bibs.

But here I am years later. Now I have my own closet. A closet that mysteriously re-gifted forgotten Halloween stencils to me. I suppose it’s my family’s own brand of practical magic.


Mabel’s House Re-Post: Mabel Doesn’t Like It When

*originally posted October 2010

Mabel is thoroughly put out with life right now. She doesn’t like the fact that I no longer let her run across my belly with her four pointy legs and 23 pounds of weight. On the other hand, I don’t particularly care for her dirty beard, but she thinks that’s a moot point.

She doesn’t like it when we rearrange the furniture. Although, I have to admit, she’s right. Everything will probably go back just like it was, but she won’t like that either.

But what she really doesn’t like is… orange twinkle lights. She tried to bite them. And then she hid under the dining room table for a while. Go figure.

I told her there was only room for one hormonal, slightly insane female in our house.

She thinks that’s a moot point as well.

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