The curse that works

Admit it.

At some point while you were growing up, while you were knotting string to the tail of your neighbors cat and putting bubblegum in your dear Aunt's wig without her knowledge, your very own sainted Mother, the woman that changed your diapers and cleaned up your sheets when you had a nasty case of "stomach flu" and you didn't QUITE toss your cookies all the way into the bucket she'd provided, this woman with boundless love and tender mercy turned to you and used some form of "the curse that works".

"I hope", the curse begins, "that when you have a child of your own, she/he behaves just exactly as you do. Futhermore, I hope she/he knows it all, as you continue to remind me you do. I hope she/he can look you square in the eye and say perfectly true but horrific things that make you want to both laugh in delight and scream in horror."

Ask me again why I never had children of my own.

I heard this curse. My sister heard this course. We knew it worked. After all, our own mother had us and our own mother admitted that her own mother had said this to her. Why would we take that kind of risk?

Except that my sister did.

And the curse? Well - you be the judge. I submit the following:

My sister will be taking my two perfectly lovely nieces on their first trip to Disneyland later next week. I say "first trip" because we're Californians. Disneyland is simply the "easy" destination, especially if you want to behave like children - or if you have children.

Lovely niece #1 (also known as LN1), who is all of 3 1/2 years old, asked if she could take a stuffed something to sleep with at night while on their trip. "Well that sounds like a good idea", was my sister's response. "In fact, I usually make a list of all of the things I want to bring, so that I don't forget anything."

So began the list.

It was quiet for about 6 minutes, and then LN1 came dragging into the dining room and politely announced that she was dismayed to discover that she had no stuffed items from the "Peter Pan" line-up. "No Wendy, no Peter", she sighed with displeasure, her eyes downcast. "In fact", she continued in disbelief ... and I swear on my own eyes I am NOT making this up ... "Mother sigh - do you know I don't even have a 'Nana'?"

It was all my sister could do to not bust out laughing.

The curse ... I think you'll agree ... is alive and well.