"Snape. Snape. Severus Snape. Dumbledore!"
Either you're familiar with the next line and this little ditty will be stuck in your head all day, or you are not one of the 105,647,057 people who have viewed Potter Puppet Pals on YouTube. (Want in? Click here.) Needless to say, the song's been stuck in my head for weeks now.
That's life raising a generation who'd rather be attending school at Hogwarts, using quills and parchment instead of boring old No. 2 pencils and notebook paper.
I know I'm not the only mom who has schlepped from store to store on a mission to track down hula hoops in the offseason (who said no one's allowed to hula hoop in the fall?) in a big-hearted attempt to put on a real live Quidditch match for an 8-year-old's birthday party.
I'm sure I'm not the only mom who has spent the better part of a football season knitting a scarlet-and-gold-striped scarf up in the stands because someone at home wants to be Harry Potter for Halloween.
Who else heard "Expelliarmus!" "Stupify!" and "Expecto Patronum!" when they passed out sparklers last week? (And then had a debate whether the dark incantation "Avada Cadavra" was permissible at family gatherings.)
I don't merely put up with the Harry Potter obsession. No, no. I embrace it. Yes, it was my husband and I, not the children, who found ourselves waiting shoulder to shoulder with die-hards in costume at midnight in a long queue at the Scottsdale, Ariz., Barnes & Noble while on vacation. We couldn't wait to get our Muggle hands on Harry's final installment.
After all, it was Harry who turned me into a real reader 12 years ago. It's true. Before J.K. Rowling's big hit, I couldn't tell you the last book I read for pleasure. All that changed when those letters came flying through the Dursley's mail chute at number four, Privet Drive. I was hooked.
I can remember staring up at posters plastered to the walls of my elementary school that featured kids on flying carpets and made grandiose claims that books could magically transport readers to far-off lands and put them smack in the middle of unworldly adventures. I thought it was all a bunch of librarian propaganda hogwash. That is, until I met Harry.
Suddenly, there I was, a college student, flying on a broomstick in far-off lands, absolutely soaking in friendships I never knew I had and having marvelous adventures that were indeed out of this world. Next book! Next book! (Hence the Barnes & Noble midnight escapade.)
When our oldest starting reading chapter books, I knew just the right series that would help turn him into a voracious reader too. It worked! Not only have we had a blast defeating death eaters and concocting potions together, we've also bonded over Percy Jackson, that Wimpy Kid, a hobbit, and so many others.
So thank you, Harry. Thank you for making our family believe in all that magic-carpet-rides-through-books business. It's not hogwash at all.
How can we repay you? I know. Your birthday is around the corner. July 31, right? The kids and I will bake a cake and have a party in your honor, Potter style. Only sans the Bertie Botts every flavor beans, OK? Because if I get another earwax flavored one...
Read more by Margaret Anderson at www.jamsandpickles.wordpress.com.