The Day the Magic Died

I promised to share some lighthearted “Glimpses” from the vintage writings of my life, and the day has come to deliver on that promise.

This first Glimpse requires a little background. When I wrote this, our refilled bottle of Mrs. Butterworth had been around for much of my daughter Heather’s young life. The thing about our Mrs. Butterworth was that she talked. She employed a really horrible English accent (it just seemed to happen every time I grabbed her from the fridge) and she had a way of bringing sweetness not just to pancakes but to our very lives. She was chatty and always full of wise words and cheery admonitions. Like:

“It is SO lovely to see this morning! How smashing you look in those pajaah-mas!”

“What a glorious day this is starting out to be. And YOU’RE my favorite part of it!”

“You’ll never guess the trouble the mayonnaise started in the fridge last night! Simply dreadful! Let me tell you about it...”

“Oh! My daah-lings! Do have a wonderful day, won’t you?”

With that in mind, here goes the Glimpse:

September 27, 2006

“We had our first family experience with loss and grief last week. Heather accidentally knocked Mrs. Butterworth off the counter.

She cracked wide open, and we watched in horror as her innards slowly spilled out all over the floor. Heather was inconsolable. Of course, Mrs. Butterworth couldn’t speak after that, and we had to put her broken, sticky remains in the trash. Heather cried all the while.

She knew many of Mrs. Butterworth’s sisters were waiting at the store, but when I reminded her of this, she whimpered through her sobs that they were ‘just plastic’ (at which I suppressed a chuckle.)

We’ve since acquired a new Mrs. Butterworth and are slowly becoming accustomed to her slimmer look. She is doing a heroic job of filling the role of Mrs. Butterworth in the political landscape of the fridge. She’s already made friends with the ketchup. But our lives won’t be quite the same without our dearly beloved, syrupy friend.”

Childhood is full of hilarious magic. Embrace the magic! Hug, love, play, sing, laugh, read, climb, run, make the syrup talk, and fall down exhausted and happy at the end of the day. It’ll all be gone soon enough. Soon Mrs. Butterworth will just be plastic, your daughter will be toting a backpack on some college campus, and all that remains will be the feeling she had while she was HOME.

Make home magical!