Him.

It’s been a long day of work, and he pulls into the driveway of his home on the hill. He puts the Volvo station wagon in park, remembers the emergency break this time, and walks towards the front door. As he approaches, this is when he hears it. At first it is a soft ripple, hard to hear, but then as he opens the door and walks in, the contagious sound of giggles breaks free into an explosion of harmonious echoes. He has barely taken off his work shoes and slipped into his Birkenstocks when he sees her. His blue-eyed, rosy cheeked, chubby little girl with chestnut brown wild hair, bright sassy clothes, and the sweetest face he’s ever seen. She’s running upstairs in pursuit of something magical, and when she sees him, she skids to a halt and with the biggest smile on her face says to him “hi daddy”.

Me.

“Time for port and contraband!” I yell as I slide through the house rallying my sisters to join me for dress up and a “tea” party in our attic. Mom has gone to work, and we only have an hour until dad comes home. We all have jobs to do. My oldest sister collects the stories, my favorite sister rolls the cigars, and my youngest sister makes the “tea” that we call “Port”. My assignment is to sneak into the kitchen and scavenge up some snacks we call “contraband”. I’m only 8 years old and I have no idea what that word means. All I know is it involves Ritter sport and Toblerone chocolate, starburst candy from America, and lebkuchen. I know where mom and dad hide the best treats and that is why it’s my job. In a flash, the sister witches entered one by one into our secret meeting place (the attic), with our secret knock and password, and goods in tow. This began an enchanting hour of story telling, tea, snacks and smoking our fake cigars. It’s a miracle we didn’t burn the house down. They may have been just rolled up paper, but the matches were real. 

This was my favorite time of day. As always, we giggled our way through all the snacks and I was sent on a mission to collect more. As I re-entered the real world from our magic sister world, I heard a car engine and knew dad was home. I secretly wished he could join us because he was really good at dress up and tea parties, but no adults allowed. I tried to get more snacks as fast as I could, but he was quicker than I thought! Knowing I was about to get caught as he opened the front door, I couldn’t stop giggling and just ran around frazzled instead. He started up the stairs and when he saw me he said “hi Xaroula Stratula”. That nickname from our life in Greece stuck even when we moved to Germany. 

Him. 

She reaches up for a hug and he wraps his arms around her as she whispers in his ear “missed you daddy, how was work”? He can tell she’s trying to distract him from whatever she was doing before he arrived. The dress up clothes with the apron and large pockets and the giant Victorian hat she was wearing was the tell-tale sign. He knew when his daughters played dress up, they wouldn’t be seen for hours, but giggles could always be heard and that’s why he pretended he didn’t know what they were up to. The giggle girls were his pride and joy. His blue-eyed, rosy cheeked, chubby little girl with chestnut brown wild hair, bright sassy clothes, and the sweetest face he’s ever seen, looks up at him and says “daddy, I’m hungry, can you make me a snack?” He agrees and puts together cheese, crackers, olives and cucumbers. She grabs the plate out of his hands and says “thanks daddy” and races upstairs to the attic where the witches (her sisters) await. One secret knock and password later, all he hears are ooohs, ahhhs, giggles, and more giggles.  

Me.

I stumble into the attic giggling and telling my story of the friendly giant who crossed my path while attempting the capture of contraband and how in order to be released I had to promise to eat healthy, and whack, I slam the plate down for emphasis. My witchy sisters oooh and ahh and praise me for bravery as we resume our “tea” party with more giggles and consume the cheese platter from the friendly giant. I smile and look around and smoke billows around us and I think to myself, “I am the luckiest girl. These old ladies actually want to hang out with me!” 

Him. 

As he hears the whispers, giggles, and mischief, he imagines what his daughters will be like when they are grown women. Will they still get together like this? Will they make time for one another? Will they giggle? He says a prayer and decides to make spaghetti for dinner. He knows he will get time with the giggle girls at the dinner table as family dinner is his favorite time of day. 

Me.

Days turned into months and months turned into years. It would be 12 years before me and my sister witches gathered together for dress up, “tea”, and contraband. The stories were different, the menu was modified, but the giggles and the hats brought back the best memories I have of my sisters. It’s when we disappeared to the magical world of our imagination and returned to our childhood bond. I will always cherish those times and I’m looking forward to when we can gather together again. It’s been awhile. My door is always open. You know the secret knock and the password. If I yell “time for port and contraband!”, will you come?