Baby Shower game idea

You’ll need: plain newborn onesies, fabric markers, and prizes

The game: guests draw designs on the onesies, with prizes for funniest, best design, etc.

The best part is that in those early days of late nights, when you’re changing your baby for the fifth time, you’ll see a fun design that reminds you of a loved one!

Agatha stared at the empty change table where her baby had just been lying. Frowning, her finger traced the charred lines of the demonic sigil now burned into the mattress. It was reversed of course, transferred from the back of the onesie she had just dressed little Lucy in. She’d only looked at the front as she grabbed it from the pile:

       Property of _______

She thought it had been a boring design. She should have known to check the back. It was a basic rule: anything can be a contract, provided it’s signed. It’s your responsibility to inspect the entire document.

The needle hidden under the zipper was a cheap move, but it had drawn enough blood to stain the onesie, sealing the contract.

Agatha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, avoiding the wart. She shouldn’t have invited demons to her baby shower, but she’d gone overboard on her gift registry and wanted to pad the numbers. After all, it had been the first firstborn child she’d successfully bargained for.

The next time she traded witchcraft for a baby, she’d just ask for gift cards.

Familiar

Do not follow strange creatures
Do not listen to their call
A friendly form with sweet promises
Will soon have you enthralled

Her mother warned of familiars
Of a witch’s faithful servants
creatures that heeded wicked orders
and stole children from their parents

The girl followed the small black cat
She had never walked so far from home
Though she did not recognise the route
It was better than walking alone

It led her to a small house
Made of something sweet
The cat pushed open the door
and sat at the witch’s feet

Between work and forced feeding
The days passed in a blur
But the girl had a friend
That whispered beneath a purr

The day finally came
The witch stoked the coals
Waiting for the oven to heat
The girl knew her role

The cat rubbed against the witch’s legs
A move the witch ignored
At last, it was time to cook
And she opened the oven door

The cat remained still
braced against withered feet
The girl pushed as she was told
and the witch fell to the heat

The cat pushed open the door
and told the girl that she had only dreamt
It knew better than to keep the child
For familiarity breeds contempt