Sweethearts, the time has come to come clean. I am not who and what you think I am.
What I am is a Witch. Before you mutter to yourself “I knew it” – you are not alone. About two hours ago I passed two little boys (say about four years old), in a nearby park, when one of them asked me, in that most trusting way only children are capable of: “Are you a witch?” As career options go I might consider it. Mind you. I’ll need to go crowd funding first to source that most indispensible of all accessories. Namely, a broom.
Being caught on the hob – or is it hop, I smiled: “No, I am not”. On a nano second’s reflection, and not being the kind to dash other people’s hope (within reason). “Do I look like one?” Apparently, I do. “Witch, Witch, Witch”, they chanted.
By the time I came back from town, having forgotten all about my elevated status, they caught up with me again. “Look, the witch is back”. It’s nice to be delighted in. Unless you are the devil.