Mama's linen closet
A voice floats down the hall saying, "There's a ghost in the linen closet!"

I investigate and find my 5-year-old daughter leaning against the linen closet door with her face pressed to the crack, crooning, "There's a ghost in the linen closet!"

"Wooooo!" says the ghost in the closet.

About to tell them not to mess up my linen closet, I open the door, and out tumbles into a blonde and laughing heap my 3-year-old son.

Only it's not my son John - suddenly it's more than 30 years ago and the laughing boy who tumbles out of the piles of blankets and outgrown clothes is my 3-year-old brother Johnny, and I'm the 5-year-old girl with the long brown hair.

Mommy's linen closet has a narrow door, but the closet is wide and there's a three foot deep space to the right of the door where Johnny and I play. First we are in a spaceship flying to the moon, then we're defending our castle from the enemies outside, next we're living in a treehouse, Swiss Family Robinson-style.

As I relive these games aloud, my daughter's eyes widen and sparkle, and my son's mouth draws into a perfect O.

Taking another look at the clothes that have fallen out of their bags and the twisted blankets in the floor of the linen closet, I leave my babies to their games. I can straighten up the closet some other time.