MAGIC KILLERS

It was a cooler night, a welcome surprise. The wind was propelling in from the south window, aided by the fan above. The clock read after one, how did that happen? I pulled out one of my two pajama drawers but as I was sorting to find the perfect pair for the four hours of sleep that was ahead of me, a process that takes five long minutes I mourn for on the other end, the cooler night suddenly became cold. A smile crossed my face as I quickly shut that drawer. I reached eight inches above, FALL/WINTER PAJAMAS!

I brushed my hand over the Christmas pile, I can listen to the music but if I put one of those on I’ll curse the Indian Summer that is likely ahead of me still. My eyes lingered on the red snowflakes from two years back but my hands moved on and suddenly stopped. My eyes caught up … the pale pink, softer than a baby’s blanket, pair. Perfect.

I crawled into bed, pulled up the sheets and there they were …



She comes to get it as we get in the bath. I have no fear of the first step of the cleansing process. However, she is carefully monitored during the critical moments of the second step. She often reaches for the dryer sheet. NO! At five, the only thing understood is that the dryer sheets are MAGIC KILLERS! She laughs and tries to explain something about cling and the slips I desperately hate on Sundays but my eyes are focused on the dryer door … if any killers past through I will lie on the ground and throw a tantrum.

I am the fastest. The Strawberry Shortcake Nightgown is my favorite. No matter the season, no matter the trip, no matter the sleeve length, it is worn. I am in my SSN before the others have even decided on their wardrobe for the next eleven hours ~ FRENCH KIDS NEED THEIR SLEEP and our parents know it. Discussion of the next day, brushing of hair and teeth, and prayer. Please ask Briggy to pray, he prays the fastest. I don’t know that other little ones hate going to bed, I run to my bed and suddenly stop … I crawl in slowly and they appear. My friends from the night before, not Fairies that Grams talks of. No, these were my Magic Jumping Beads that magically appear and disappear so fast I can never catch them. He comes and interrupts with his own nightly ritual, saying goodnight to his girls. I respond and then he’s gone. I kick, I twist, I turn, I throw my limbs in all sorts of directions. And although the beads taunt me, I fall into dreams with them night after night.

… I must have forgotten to put the MAGIC KILLERS in the last time I washed the pink softies or perhaps the dryness of UT has affected my drawer contents. But I fell asleep with a childlike contentment and awoke with more energy than I have ever awoken after three and a half hours of sleep. DOWN WITH MAGIC KILLERS!