My little fairy godmother click-clacked her way across the room to me, magic wand twinkling, promise in her eyes.
In a soft, southern drawl (who knew?), she asked,
"And what do you wish for my deah?"
"I wish for two beautiful daughters. But wait! I have that already!"
She graciously offered me another chance.
"What else will you wish for?"
"I wish for two healthy, brilliant little girls. Oh, but I have that already, too!"
Fairy Godmother was becoming impatient.
"Then I shall wish for you."
She paused and scanned my frame, head to foot. With a stomp of one small, glass-clad foot and an elaborate wave of the wand, she announced:
"You shall have some nice clothes that actually fit."
With a toss of her head, Fairy Godmother click-clacked back the way she had come, refusing to acknowledge the peals of laughter that followed.