The trouble with all the fairy tales I read and watched growing up is that I believed them.  My prince would come and we would live happily ever after.  I found my version of the prince and we did live happily ever after until we had to stop living that chapter and I accept that. What I can’t accept or believe is that I don’t have an army of magical helpers when I start to clean the house.


Where are those cute little birds and chipmunks and mice that whip their tails and brush away the dust and scrub the dishes and do the laundry?  I’ve got three dogs and two cats who are sitting here looking at me while I pick up the dust balls of hair they leave all over the place.  Where is that magic wand that will transform them?


Oh well, I’m procrastinating and daydreaming and dilly dallying and it’s two days until Thanksgiving.  The things I can come up with to get out of this are infinite, starting with writing, but the dirt is still there.  I don’t even have that silly work excuse this year.

Sigh…where is my fairy godmother?