For the remainder of this post, I expect you to sing the title, Witch In a Box, to the tune of the Samberg-Timberlake classic, D@#! in a Box. I’ve been singing it since Hazel arrived, and believe you should all share my earworm.

Careful readers of this blog (hi, Mom!) may already suspect that they’re about to be hit with a re-run. New people who have not read my entire archive (why? why haven’t you done that?), were unaware until just now that I’m tossing up an old post. It is edited, and has been updated to reflect the current ages and stages of children in this house.

For the sake of argument – and because I’m feeling kind of feisty today – I offer a two-pronged defense of the re-tread:

1. I already posted new content this week. How much more do you people expect from me?

2. It’s Fall/Halloween time and this is one of my favorite (only?) Halloween-themed posts. It’s worth another look-see. In my not so humble opinion.

So here you go, the story of Hazel…

You know what I love about the season o’ holidays (Halloween through Easter)? The joy of watching children, dressed in their holiday finest, experience the excitement of the season.

Not really.

I do like the joy and the children and the et cetera. I do. I’m not heartless. Schmoopiness challenged, maybe, but not heartless. My other favorite thing about holiday season, though, is deceiving my children into good behavior.

You know the Elf on the Shelf? Ours is Bingle Jingle Snevets, and the kids adore him. I like him too, even if he’s a bit of a pain in the arse. I’ve written about this before, but in review, this is our house at midnight, every night between Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Eve:

Me: Did you move the elf?

Mark, sleepy: No. Forgot.

Me: {Silence, loaded with expectation.}

Mark, sighing heavily: I’ll go do it now.

It’s super fun. For the kids.

Our seven year old may be on the bubble of non-belief with Bingle the Elf. I’m sure Santa and the Easter Bunny are not far behind. And honestly, I find the Easter Bunny absurd, so I can’t blame kids for questioning the concept. I still want to believe in Santa, but there’s no love lost between me and the bunny.

As I was saying, my big kid is wavering on whether the magic is parent-produced. I’ve gently encouraged him to refrain from putting even the tiniest doubt in the mind of his brother.

“You will keep the magic alive,” I hiss. “Alive, do you understand me?”

Anyway.

Since that elf is just so much dang fun, I decided to extend the magic. Bingle’s effect on childish behavior is negligible, at best, but he does periodically help me diffuse highly charged sibling situations. I got to thinking… Why not invite some other magical characters into our home?

Enter, Hazel.

In her window, where she stays. Except for November-September, when she’s in a box.

Her yarn hair is thinning and her nose is missing, but she’s still got the magic going on. My mother-in-law made her for us pre-kids, so it was only a few years ago that Hazel took on the role of Snitch Witch.

As far as the kids know, Hazel magically appears in my box of fall decorations* and asks me to put her on that windowsill. I’m the only one in the house who can hear her talk. Obviously. Witches stick together, yo.

Then, every night Hazel hops on her tiny (and invisible) broom, headed straight to… the North Pole. To see Bingle. She reports on the behavior in our house, so Bingle and Santa can get a jump on the Christmas Naughty & Nice List.

The one big difference between Hazel and Bingle is this: she lands in the same spot every time she returns. It’s her favorite spot and she gets all twitchy-witchy if she can’t sit there. There are no games of Find Hazel! in the mornings.

I feel that I must extend a Very Holiday Spirited Threat to everyone who considers telling my children that Hazel should land in new places every day: Keep your mouths shut. You hear me? Hazel is a one-spot girl.

Now I just need a Valentine’s Day friend and Easter-themed character to add to our entourage. Think of it, our little magical friends will give me months of barely modified behavior.

*By the way, I do a decent job of Christmas decorations. I like getting festive. But Halloween really isn’t my thing. The Fall Decor Box holds what you see pictured in this post, plus a collection of acorns. That smattering of fall-themed cheer, plus a harvest-vibe on front porch, is the extent of it. Ta-Da. Let the magic begin.

Fall. You can tell by the pumpkins.

Holiday Spirit in a Box.