Enter the Tiny Wizard

Sunday, I hosted a barbeque at my house. We had probably forty or so people wander through at various points in the day, and, as far as I know, a good time was had by all.

Fast forward to Monday morning. I go into the office to start my work for the week, and discover a tiny wizard on my desk.

I have no idea where he came from.

Logic dictates that he’s probably a present from one of the many people who were here on Sunday, but the office was closed off, and no one came up to me and said, “Hey, Kit, I got you a tiny wizard and put him on your desk.”

I posted a message on facebook, just in case someone, for whatever reason, had a tiny wizard in their pocket, thought he’d like to be on my desk for a while, and then forgot him, so he could be claimed if necessary. But no one has.

(In fact, I think most people think I’m making him up. Alas, no.)

It’s a conundrum. I have forty-odd suspects, most of whom would probably see a tiny wizard and think I would like one, no eye witnesses, and one very small wizard who, for all I know, apparated himself onto my desk for nefarious purposes.

The whole thing has me slightly off-balance. Do I accept the presence of the tiny wizard? What if he was meant for my husband, not me, and the mysterious wizard provider just didn’t know which desk was whose? (Though I would think that the tribbles, turtles, and naming books would probably denote my desk as mine.) Why will no one admit to leaving him behind?

And most of all – what does he want? What does one feed tiny wizards anyway?