Believing in Fairies

I used to believe in fairies when I was a little girl, and was an inveterate reader of all types of fairy tales. When I was eight, we went away on holidays down to Koroit, near Warrnambool. I was convinced there were fairies in the huge garden of the old house in which we stayed.

I wish they did exist! One night on Twitter, I was discussing with a couple of lovely ladies the possibility of fairies visiting our house. A cleaning fairy, a laundry fairy, and a cooking fairy would be nice. Just imagine coming home from work to have dinner cooking on the stove, the breakfast dishes washed, a clean bathroom, a tidy house and clothes washed, dried, folded and put away. Imagine a dining table polished and not awash with laundry, bills, homework and books. Imagine floors vacuumed and washed, beds made and benches clutter-free. Imagine a fridge stocked with milk and bread and a full pantry. Imagine all of this done by fairies… and not you.

Well, it happens sometimes. I have dinner cooked by Mr BG when I come home from work, he irons, and is a dab hand at the vacuuming. The kids are beginning to tidy up their rooms, and Miss BG loves helping cook dinner, bringing over a little chair to help with the stirring. I also have wonderful neighbours who will take the kids at the drop of a hat, and who will mow our nature strip for us. The laundry may get pegged out if I ask…

Maybe if I keep wishing hard enough, the fairies might come…


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