one, they stagger to their feet, adjusting their bent wings.
“It’s about time,” grunts The Queen.
“The trip was challenging,” says a flushed Fairweather, unable to mask her embarrassment.
“We haven’t flown this far in ages,” says Flossie, as if giving an excuse.
“We had to stop for a bite to eat,” says Fanta, her voice matter-of-fact. Fairweather gives her a “shut-up” nudge with her elbow. Fanta cringes.
The three Badass Fairies haven’t changed a bit—except their butts are even bigger. They’re still wearing their frumpy frocks and matching bonnets, completing each other’s sentences, and about to bicker.
“Excuses, excuses.” The Queen rolls her eyes with disdain. “Let’s just get on with the blessings.”
Taking turns, the Badass Fairies waddle over to Princess Swan, wave their magic wands over her, and bestow her with a blessing. Fingers crossed one of them blesses her with Beauty. She sure could use some help in that department.
“Princess Swan, I bestow upon you the gift of eternal thinness,” says Fairweather.
What a waste of a blessing! While I’m sure every Fairytale princess yearns for this lifetime-guaranteed gift, this poor scrawn-of-a-child needs some meat on her bones.
“I bestow upon you the singing voice of an angel,” says Fanta.
Good one! I wish someone had done that for me.
“And I bestow upon you the gift of eternal beauty,” says Fanta.
Phew! I was getting worried.
“Let’s par-tay!” bellows King Midas.
Winnie, once again, has done her magic. The feast that follows is spectacular—a savory symphony of fresh baked breads, pastries, tarts, and salads. Villagers mingle amongst royalty. The gifts they have brought for Princess Swan are abundant—ranging from a basket of freshly baked muffins from a little village girl in a red hooded cloak to a coach full toys from Pinocchio, my dear Faraway friend who inherited his father’s toy business and turned it into an empire. His constant companion, Peter Pan, has offered Princess Swan a coupon good for one free trip to Neverland when she turns ten.
The Queen, still cuddling Swan in her bountiful arms, mingles with her guests and is the center of attention. “Isn’t she drop-dead gorgeous?” she thunders. My mother-in law is extremely myopic but too vain to wear glasses. She’s oblivious to Swan’s ugly duckling looks. No one has the nerve to tell her the truth. They want to keep their heads on their shoulders.
In the crowd, I spot Elz at the banquet table, standing next to a much more relaxed Winnie. I make my way over to them.
“I’m now officially Auntie Elz,” gloats Elz in her singsong voice. She’s bestowed upon Swan a closet-full of fabulous shoes that every Lalaland princess would die for. Except they won’t fit her until she’s twenty.
“The baby’s adorable,” gushes Elz. She’s not wearing her glasses. She’s in for a big surprise.
“Cinderella looks like she’s drowned in a moat,” comments Winnie.
“She probably just needs a hug,” says Elz. She waltzes over to her.
They have grown quite close. Cinderella, the perfect, kind-hearted princess she is, readily forgave her stepsister for her not-so-nice behavior when they were growing up. She knew Elz’s wicked mother had manipulated her. Thanks to Cinderella’s support and generous investment, Elz was able to turn The Glass Slipper into a multi-million dollar empire with shoe stores all over Lalaland.
I hover over the banquet table with the svelter than ever Winnie, who carefully measures how much food she puts onto her plate. At last, a chance to talk to her.
Keeping an eye out for Aurora, I hastily fill in her about last night. No, not about Cinderella’s mama drama. About Gallant’s confession.
Winnie shrugs. “Just because Gallant knows Aurora and went to her house doesn’t mean he’s sleeping with her.”
I want to shake her. What will it take to convince her that Gallant is having an affair?
“Keep
“It’s about time,” grunts The Queen.
“The trip was challenging,” says a flushed Fairweather, unable to mask her embarrassment.
“We haven’t flown this far in ages,” says Flossie, as if giving an excuse.
“We had to stop for a bite to eat,” says Fanta, her voice matter-of-fact. Fairweather gives her a “shut-up” nudge with her elbow. Fanta cringes.
The three Badass Fairies haven’t changed a bit—except their butts are even bigger. They’re still wearing their frumpy frocks and matching bonnets, completing each other’s sentences, and about to bicker.
“Excuses, excuses.” The Queen rolls her eyes with disdain. “Let’s just get on with the blessings.”
Taking turns, the Badass Fairies waddle over to Princess Swan, wave their magic wands over her, and bestow her with a blessing. Fingers crossed one of them blesses her with Beauty. She sure could use some help in that department.
“Princess Swan, I bestow upon you the gift of eternal thinness,” says Fairweather.
What a waste of a blessing! While I’m sure every Fairytale princess yearns for this lifetime-guaranteed gift, this poor scrawn-of-a-child needs some meat on her bones.
“I bestow upon you the singing voice of an angel,” says Fanta.
Good one! I wish someone had done that for me.
“And I bestow upon you the gift of eternal beauty,” says Fanta.
Phew! I was getting worried.
“Let’s par-tay!” bellows King Midas.
Winnie, once again, has done her magic. The feast that follows is spectacular—a savory symphony of fresh baked breads, pastries, tarts, and salads. Villagers mingle amongst royalty. The gifts they have brought for Princess Swan are abundant—ranging from a basket of freshly baked muffins from a little village girl in a red hooded cloak to a coach full toys from Pinocchio, my dear Faraway friend who inherited his father’s toy business and turned it into an empire. His constant companion, Peter Pan, has offered Princess Swan a coupon good for one free trip to Neverland when she turns ten.
The Queen, still cuddling Swan in her bountiful arms, mingles with her guests and is the center of attention. “Isn’t she drop-dead gorgeous?” she thunders. My mother-in law is extremely myopic but too vain to wear glasses. She’s oblivious to Swan’s ugly duckling looks. No one has the nerve to tell her the truth. They want to keep their heads on their shoulders.
In the crowd, I spot Elz at the banquet table, standing next to a much more relaxed Winnie. I make my way over to them.
“I’m now officially Auntie Elz,” gloats Elz in her singsong voice. She’s bestowed upon Swan a closet-full of fabulous shoes that every Lalaland princess would die for. Except they won’t fit her until she’s twenty.
“The baby’s adorable,” gushes Elz. She’s not wearing her glasses. She’s in for a big surprise.
“Cinderella looks like she’s drowned in a moat,” comments Winnie.
“She probably just needs a hug,” says Elz. She waltzes over to her.
They have grown quite close. Cinderella, the perfect, kind-hearted princess she is, readily forgave her stepsister for her not-so-nice behavior when they were growing up. She knew Elz’s wicked mother had manipulated her. Thanks to Cinderella’s support and generous investment, Elz was able to turn The Glass Slipper into a multi-million dollar empire with shoe stores all over Lalaland.
I hover over the banquet table with the svelter than ever Winnie, who carefully measures how much food she puts onto her plate. At last, a chance to talk to her.
Keeping an eye out for Aurora, I hastily fill in her about last night. No, not about Cinderella’s mama drama. About Gallant’s confession.
Winnie shrugs. “Just because Gallant knows Aurora and went to her house doesn’t mean he’s sleeping with her.”
I want to shake her. What will it take to convince her that Gallant is having an affair?
“Keep
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