The last piece of the pie, left out when the family went to bed, and gone at daybreak?
A key that worked before but cannot be depended on to open a cabinet door again?
A window that blew open just as the rain came and left the table wet?
A runaway roll of toilet paper?
Which are real?
My parents called any such mysterious anomaly the work of a “gremlin.”
In retrospect, I don’t remember any special rationale for gremlins except, perhaps, to find a source of mischief to clear one’s childhood reputation as a mischief-maker. Read More»