The Magical Shirt

There are some objects in this world that are enchanted. I’m not one to believe in superstitions, but certain occurrences are so otherworldly that even the most hardened skeptic has to reevaluate his or her policy of disbelief.

One of these charmed objects recently found its way into our Ouija board-free home. It is making me doubt everything I thought I knew about the silent workings of the universe.

I am beginning to believe that Cee’s green shirt with pink giraffes on it imbues her with super toddler powers.

This not-great picture was the only one I could find of the magic shirt. It resists being photographed.

This not-great picture was the only one I could find of the magic shirt. It resists being photographed because it cannot have its powers revealed. I’m actually kind of amazed this post was able to go up at all. If you experience 404 errors later, that’s why.

The shirt had humble beginnings. A couple months ago a random cold front came through and I had to run out in a pinch and get C fall clothes. My haul from a local consignment store included several pairs of pants, a sweater, and an assortment of long-sleeved shirts. In the middle of this ordinary wardrobe was the magical shirt in question. Its tag indicated that it originated at Gymboree, but we now know better. It started in Fairy Land.

The first time I noticed that this shirt was enchanted was several weeks ago when I went to get Cee out of her crib after her nap. When I opened the door, my topless daughter was standing in her crib, the shirt nowhere in sight. I asked her where it was and she just smiled. I later found it behind her old changing table, located on the opposite side of the room.

Naturally, the shirt removed itself from her and then teleported to the furthest reaches of the room. I was a little shocked because it only cost like $2, and one would think that sentient children’s clothing would cost at least as much as admission to Disneyworld.

We then had a substantial warm-up for a few weeks so she didn’t need to wear the shirt. It sat dormant in her drawers and bode its time to perform another trick. The other day, the temperatures dipped so I laid out the shirt for her and got her dressed. After she was dressed for the day, I set up her Pack ‘N Play in my room so she could sit in it and look at books while I showered. We do this every Friday when B has to be at work early and is unable to watch her while I shower. There are a lot of sacrifices I make for my child but getting up early before she wakes just to take a shower is not one of them.

The sides of the Pack N’ Play come all the way to Cee’s shoulders, so unless she is a direct descendant of Harry Houdini and we don’t know it, there is really no way for her to escape from the playpen and wreak havoc on the apartment.

I thought.

You can imagine my surprise when I pulled the shower curtain back and saw my child sitting on my bed – not in the Pack N’ Play – waving excitedly. The shirt gave her the power to levitate out of the playpen. There is no other explanation for these eerie happenings.

While I am a little frightened of this shirt, it’s the kind of fear that I have a hard time looking away from. I’m hoping that its powers are the good kind. Maybe if I treat it with respect and launder it dutifully, it will give C the ability to make me some coffee.


  1. We have one of these objects as well – it’s a Detroit Tigers jersey from the early 80’s that I wore as a wee lad. We keep throwing it away and somehow it winds up in one of the kids drawers, the ‘dirty rags’ basket, or even (I swear) the trunk of our car. But the only special power it has i believe is the curse that the Tigers won’t win the World Series until we can finally dispose of it.

    1. There’s a sports joke in there somewhere, but I know so little about the Detroit Tigers that I feel like I don’t have the right to make it. Are they football or squash?

  2. Oooooooo. Maybe it’s not the shirt. Maybe it’s Cee. Enchanted baby. If she starts wiggling her nose a lot, I’d say you have cause to be suspicious.

    On the other hand, Gymboree IS a pretty magical place. So much cuteness in one store can only be explained by otherworldliness.

    1. Gymboree is amazing. There is an outlet store about an hour from our home, and I thank God it’s not closer or I’d spend her entire college tuition there before her fifth birthday.

      1. I already squandered four college tuitions, I fear. So basically, my two children NOR my two hypothetical children can go to college.

  3. Oh my goodness! Do launder it dutifully. Stay on it’s good side. May it go well with you, friend.

    1. I accidentally spilled a little bleach on it over the weekend. Sad faces.

  4. I’m glad I’m not the only one who refuses to give up personal hygiene and sleep unless absolutely necessary.

    We have a magic shirt here, too. It’s a monster truck, and it demands to be worn. When it is unavailable due to low temperatures or a need for laundering, its owner transforms into, well, into a monster.

    1. I love how your comments are little blog posts in and of themselves.

  5. Has to be the shirt.

    1. I know, right? It can’t possibly be my little baby growing up.

      1. Nope. They don’t do that.

  6. Oh honey. I will say it again: the fun has just begun. Do be so nice to the shirt or it will teach her to climb out of the pack and play, drag a kitchen chair to the countertop, climb the counter and from there make the short leap to the top of the refrigerator. P.S. Don’t let the shirt read this blog post!!!!!

    1. Not even kidding, she JUST figured out how to climb chairs this weekend. Last night she decided to sit in the chair in her room for her bedtime story. B sat on the floor. Pretty clear who’s in charge.

  7. My mom has a sweatshirt like this! (The truth is, I hid it/saved it every time.)

    1. These clothes are like the kindred spirits of the socks that get lost in the laundry.

  8. One can put up with a great deal if the result may be a kid who’ll make coffee!

    1. I agree! I aspire for her to be my personal barista by the time she’s five.

  9. Ohhhh. I need a magical shirt, especially if it can teach my son to make me coffee!

    1. They really do owe us something.

  10. I so love the way you turn every day things into incredible stories. <3

    1. Awwww, thanks. Mwaaah!

  11. There is definitely some magic in that shirt. It was probably made with unicorn hair and dragon’s blood. Maybe check the care tag for clues. It will be a sad say when C grows out of it. Maybe it will grow with her! Sisterhood of the Magical Green Shirt.

    1. It’s a sad day when she grows out of any of her clothes, mostly because it happens so quickly and kids clothes are not cheap.

  12. I would make her wear it constantly as it will obviously transport her from all dangers, including boredom.

    1. Exactly. Toddler boredom is the worst. When I gt bored, I just watch TV. Whey she gets bored, she tries to eat candles.

  13. So I was in disbelief. The shirt could have been thrown. I know that’s pretty far to throw, but still.

    But how’d she get out of the playpen?! I believe now. It’s a magical shirt. :D

    1. I know, right? Something creepy this way comes, and it has little pink giraffes all over it.

  14. Maybe the baby that had it before her was magical!? Make sure you never get rid of it…future generations of babies will thank you! :)

  15. I’ve decided it’s the giraffes that make it magical. I love giraffes. They’re most definitely magical beings.

    And furthermore: I need a magic shirt, for when I’m in very boring work meetings, or a play I’m attending is terrible. Could Cee come over, look at my tops, and let me know which one has the most mojo?

  16. I’ll say it again, I love your style of writing! I don’t read as many books as I should and I usually don’t buy them since I read books from the library most of the time, but I would definitely buy any book you penned! What a fun and cute post to read! ~~ Mark

    1. Hmm, some reason I had a problem with replying here. Your site said I wasn’t logged in although I was on other browser tabs. It even said I wasn’t following you which I most assuredly am. So instead I had to input my name, email, website but it gave me that crummy icon. pfft Page refreshed didn’t help. /shrug

  17. I am dreading the day either of my children decide they will only wear one item of clothing, for it will undoubtedly be covered in pink sequins, tulle, and glitter. My niece currently will only wear a pink Abby Cadabby sparkle shirt and a pink ruffled skirt that is two sizes too big. They hold the magical power of making her look homeless. But obviously that kind of thing is adorable on a two year old.

  18. Oh, that was great. I was reminded of an old episode of “Night Gallery” (which you are most certainly TOO young to remember unless you had TV Land at some point) in which a child’s doll terrorized the girl’s father. That episode even scared my dad! lol

  19. […] talked before about C’s magical shirt that gave her the ability to levitate out of the Pack ‘N Play when I was showering. It turns […]

  20. […] and raised in Memphis, TN, Emily is a gentle person who is funny, loves to write, and yearns for connection in a way that has served her well in her blogging […]

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