beatrix bobbit turns thirteen

Witch hats hung from the ceiling and topped every available surface. Small cauldrons were filled with steaming tea, while broomstick shaped cookies lined their bases.

Mrs. Bobbit stood in the center of the roasting living room, fanning herself with the witch hat she was supposed to be wearing.

"Jack, dear?" Mrs. Bobbit called. "How is the garden coming along?"

When Mrs. Bobbit didn't hear an immediate answer, she went to the kitchen, only to discover Mr. Bobbit snoring in a yellow dining room chair.

Mrs. Bobbit clapped her hands together, and when that didn't work, said, "Where is Penny?"

Mr. Bobbit shot awake so fast he tumbled from the chair. He was rather on edge about Penny's whereabouts after Mrs. Bobbit had accidentally left her in the forest a few weeks ago.

"Not again, Judy. PENNY!" Mr. Bobbit called, but the rabbit was sleeping on a black cake platter in the middle of the table.

Mrs. Bobbit sighed, and waited a few moments. "Oh yes, the garden, dear. I'll get right on it. Just putting the finishing touches..." Mr. Bobbit creakily got up from the tile floor and shuffled outside with a final tilt of his mustache at Mrs. Bobbit as he left.

"MOMMMM!" Sybil called, shutting the front door behind her.

"What is it, Sybil, dear?"

Sybil leapt into the kitchen on her new dancing shoes holding a large red box. Mrs. Bobbit could only see her two pale braids poking out of either side of the box.

"I got it!" Sybil exclaimed.

"You did? Oh, dear, that's marvelous!" Mrs. Bobbit took the box from Sybil and set it on the table, nearly squashing Penny."Oops, sorry, Penny, dear. But you really ought to move. Mr. Bobbit is outside," Mrs. Bobbit scooped Penny up and placed her on the floor beside the bunny door.

Mrs. Bobbit rubbed her hands together, asked, "Shall we open it?"

Sybil nodded enthusiastically, so Mrs. Bobbit removed the lid from the top of the box and peered inside.

"I thought it would be more exciting," Sybil remarked.

"Perhaps there are instructions," Mrs. Bobbit added, carefully lifting the chipped black cauldron from the box.

Mrs. Bobbit and Sybil both peered into the empty red box, only to find a very tiny red envelope at the bottom. It bore a black waxed cauldron seal.

Mrs. Bobbit's cheeks burned red as she carefully tried to open the seal without breaking it.

"MOM!" Sybil squealed.

"We simply must have all of the information before giving Beatrix her present, Sybil, dear," Mrs. Bobbit responded, but her fingers tingled with curiosity.

Once the seal was lifted, Mrs. Bobbit pulled a piece of paper no larger than a thumb from the envelope and began unfolding it.

She unfolded it for quite some time, until the carefully folded paper revealed itself to be a very large piece of paper masquerading as a minute one.

On the paper were four words, written in dripping black paint:

Not for your eyes!

Then, the paper crumbled in Mrs. Bobbit's hands.

"How did it know?!" asked Sybil.

Mrs. Bobbit was too preoccupied with the pile of dust now coating the kitchen table to be too overcome with the mystery of it all.

But, come to think of it, Mrs. Bobbit realized the entire process of procuring this present had been odd. From the moment Mrs. Bobbit had inquired after what Beatrix would like for her birthday, Beatrix had rattled off a list of items so strange Mrs. Bobbit had interrupted her.

...

"Beatrix, dear, I cannot get a black spell book from the depths of the black obsidian caves," Mrs. Bobbit had sighed.

"Fine," Beatrix had sulked. She'd walked slowly out the front door and to the forest without saying a word. When she returned, hours later, she was soaking wet and carrying a red piece of paper with a number on it.

Mrs. Bobbit pulled the blanket out from beneath Penny with a mumbled, "Sorry!" and wrapped it around Beatrix before assessing the piece of paper. "Beatrix, dear, there aren't enough numbers here."

Beatrix shrugged, and said, "Dial it to set a date. The present will arrive then."

Then, she'd disappeared upstairs and taken an extraordinarily long bubble bath.

...

Now, here they were several weeks later, and the mystery gift was a black cauldron.

A rude black cauldron, opposed to mothers prone to curiosity.

"What are we going to do?" Sybil asked, biting into a broomstick cookie.

"Get dressed, Sybil, dear. The party will be starting soon."

Sybil bounced off giving Mrs. Bobbit a cheerful peck, and Mrs. Bobbit was left to wipe the dust from the table while the cauldron sat there, offending her sensibilities with its chipped paint and rude notes.

Sighing, Mrs. Bobbit poked her head into the garden to discover Mr. Bobbit had only strung half of the cauldron lanterns around. He had fallen asleep leaning against the iron bench, and Penny had wedged herself in one of the paper lanterns.

Mrs. Bobbit considered stringing the lantern with Penny still in it, but decided against the idea at once. Fur would rain down on whoever was standing below it, aggravating their allergies.

Instead, Mrs. Bobbit shouted, "PENNY!"

Mr. Bobbit shot awake and leapt to his feet before he understood the trick. "It's not funny, Judy! She has abandonment issues now, look at her! We'll have to consider a psychologist if she doesn't improve."

Mr. Bobbit cajoled Penny from the lantern lightly. Penny, for her part, seemed to have no issues with anything except being removed from the lantern's cozy confines.

They finished the garden as quickly as they were able. Once the lanterns were strung, the broomstick bonfire lit and the patio table set with a build your own potion buffet, they shuffled back indoors to change.

"What's this?" Mr. Bobbit bent over to peer at the sad little chipped cauldron.

"Our gift," Mrs. Bobbit responded with a great sigh.

"Maybe we should wrap some of the cookies," Mr. Bobbit patted his mustache, and Penny, then made his way to the bedroom to change.

A short while later, all of the Bobbits were sitting in the living room donning witch hats and cloaks.

"This is the last year..." Mr. Bobbit fidgeted with the sleeves of his cloak. He said this every year.

All at once, the guests arrived. Blair and Beatrix's Witch Camp friends, led by Aunt Pan and Broomstick Betsy. Then Callum and his parents. Sybil's friend Di, who had been privy to the Penny Rescue Mission.

Mrs. Bobbit played witchy tunes on the piano and everyone commented on the delicious cookies. In the garden, the build your own potion buffet was a huge hit.

By the time the presents portion of the birthday had arrived, Mrs. Bobbit was giddy on potion and had nearly forgotten their chipped cauldron.

Until Beatrix had unwrapped a new velvet Witch Hat adorned with feathers from Aunt Pan and looked expectantly at Mrs. and Mr. Bobbit.

"Well?"

"Er, yes," Mr. Bobbit said ducking behind Penny quite unsuccessfully.

"I dialed the number, as instructed, Beatrix, dear," Mrs. Bobbit began, carrying the red box forward. "This is what got delivered. I'm so so--"

Mrs. Bobbit was cut off by a squeal from Beatrix.

Beatrix never squealed.

Mrs. Bobbit dove in front of Beatrix then, certain that the horrible cauldron had done something to cause her to squeal.

But, when she checked Beatrix over for mysterious cauldron injuries, she saw she was smiling.

"Oh, you're happy with this, Beatrix, dear?" Mrs. Bobbit asked.

"Over the moon! I can't believe you actually got it," Beatrix clutched the cauldron to her chest and stood, walking from the garden.

"Beatrix, dear!" Mrs. Bobbit called as she reached the door.

Beatrix turned and Mrs. Bobbit asked, "Aren't you going to show us what it does?"

Beatrix tilted her head, her long black hair spilling over one shoulder. "You'll see soon enough," Beatrix smirked and walked back inside.

Not a moment later, she poked her head out the back door, "Was there a note?"

"Yes, Beatrix, dear. It said 'Not for your eyes!' quite rudely before turning to dust," Mrs. Bobbit cringed at the thought of the dust falling through her fingers.

"Wicked," Beatrix said and left.

A short while later, there was a loud boom from Beatrix's room.

Followed by twelve more booms.

"Thirteen," Mr. Bobbit scratched his head.

"Oh no," Mrs. Bobbit said," what have I done?"