I WAS A FAIRY GODMOTHER!

By "The Fairy Godmother" (with MIL)

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I'M STILL SHAMPOOING FAIRY DUST AND SPANGLES!"
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Little did I realize then, that day at work in the ultra-sound section

of the Heart Group where I worked, that I shouldn't have opened my

mouth!

My co-worker and I had stolen a moment to relax and have a cup of

coffee. I was sipping and she was saying: "I'm planning a big

 birthday party for my three-year-old, Breeley! It's going to be a fantasy-thing:

'Prince and Princess'---and I'm inviting a bunch of her little friends!"

I was listening intently and caught up in her enthusiasm, the creativity of

 her idea, and the whole spirit of the thing! I blurted out: "Oh, you should

have a Fairy Godmother!"

Uh, oh! No sooner than those words were out of my mouth than I knew

 I was in trouble! You know what I mean---our eyes met. There was

a look in her eyes that said it all. I braced myself. She said: "What a neat

idea...and who'd be better than you!?"

(You must know that Texas birthday parties for kids can cost bucks.

 Parents spare nothing; expensive venues such as movie theaters and

restaurants are rented. And scarfing up and costuming a mere Fairy

Godmother is a "piece of cake.!")

That's how I became a Fairy Godmother. A day or two later I found

 myself down at the Acme Costume Rental trying to visualize how a FGM

 would dress. My thinking was that she would be inclined toward something

white and formal. Accordingly, I settled on a garb which you might see at a

wedding or  school prom---it was white...and fancy!  It cost me  $35.00.

I was lucky on the shoes---I managed to find an unwanted new pair of red

high heels. They were glad to sell me those ill-fitting shoes for a bargain ten

 bucks. Sprayed with all manner of spangles and glitter, they were fit for a

FGM!

The party itself was something to behold...and never forget. Invitations

had gone out in the form of scrolls: "Hear Ye, Hear Ye", announcing

the party.  Attending were maybe two dozen small, energetic, ever-moving,

curious, noisy, excited, Fairy Godmother-loving, three-year-olds, with
a number of mothers on hand for...crowd control. (There was no one there
 to protect the mothers, except me!) It's a good thing I didn't skimp on the
 amount of "fairy-dust" in my colorful tote bag. They all wanted to be blessed
and sprinkled with fairy dust. "Sprinkle me, Godmother!" "Over here,
sprinkle me!"  I overworked my wand that day! I wouldn't have wanted the
job of vacuuming that stuff off the floor!

There were balloons, crepe paper strips, pictures, and all manner of stuff

 hanging from the ceiling and walls. There were refreshments of all kinds:

hot dogs, and a cake with a Prince and Princess on top! There was a

blow-up castle, where the kids could jump. All the kids, plus a few

mothers were eating popcorn and cotton candy. Yes, there was a cotton

candy machine!  The kids were dressed like miniature royalty.

I knew when the time came for me to make my FGM exit; I was "blessed

out" and my wand was pooped. And I was about out of fairy dust!  It was

 time to wrap up the party. The kids were worn out, as three-year-olds

can get, and their over-worked imaginations were beginning to flag.

Wanting to end my successful evening, as a good self-respecting FGM

should—I phoned my husband and said: "Come get me---it's over."

 (No car keys, purse, driving shoes, car-parked-in-front for me---I

wanted to simply fade away...disappear in a "POO--OO-OF!" To

slip into his pickup quickly...and bye-bye.)

I sprinkled my last fairy dust all around and slipped out the door, stocking-

footed---leaving those sparkling red shoes, Cinderella-style, for souvenirs.

There was my husband in his pickup, waiting by the curb, headlights off.

 I headed his way down the sidewalk, and suddenly thinking how

 inappropriate it would be to be seen---i.e. a Fairy Godmother leaving

in a pickup---how gauche! I double-checked my back and there was

Breeley coming out the door with one of my red shoes, and saying: "Don't

leave, Fairy Godmother, please TEACH ME TO FLY! PLEASE!"

Caught off guard, I began to walk rapidly down the sidewalk, away from the

 pickup, and still here came Breeley following me. "Oh teach me to FLY!"

I began to run! Breeley ran after me! Then I noticed a little three-year old
prince, following HER, brandishing his sword!  He took up the chant: 
TEACH ME TO FLY, TOO!

On the spur of the moment, I turned and said: "I WILL, I WILL, I'LL

BE BACK! GO HOME NOW, YOU CAN KEEP MY RED SHOE---

IT'S FOR YOU!"  That seemed to satisfy little three-year-old Breeley, and

she said:  "OKAY, FAIRY GODMOTHER, BYE BYE, COME BACK

SOON!"  With that, the little princess skipped onto the porch

and into the house, followed by the prince.

I practically flew to the pickup, no pun intended! I got in, closed the door,

leaned back, and heaved a deep sigh of relief that it was over...and it had

gone so well. What a barrel of fun! I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and

accomplishment.

I'm not sure I would want to give up my day job...but I could moonlight

a little (with some new red shoes that fit.) How does this sound: "HAVE

FAIRY GODMOTHER COSTUME (AND FAIRY DUST)---AND

EXPERIENCE: WILL TRAVEL!"

My red shoe rests today on Breeley's chest-of-drawers. I am told she
slept with it for a week after the party.

Who got the left one has not been ascertained at this writing.

Now my main and nagging dilemma is:  HOW DO I TEACH BREELEY
HOW TO FLY??

----30-----

Mil's Place

7-25-13