Cinderella’s Hangover
A much-needed fairy tale for women
Because grown women need fairy tales and wine…
Once upon a time, there was a fair-haired woman who cooked and cleaned and scrubbed and swept.
This fair-haired woman was feeling harried and haggard and sleepy and stressed.
Her castle was becoming weathered and worn and her kingdom dark and dreary.
So she journeyed near and far and far and near for the magic potion that would keep her kingdom together.
Over the hills and through the valleys — it was a treacherous journey of lunch making, dog walking, carpooling, and more.
Then suddenly she spied the magic potion’s name sparkling like diamonds in the desert.
A hunky hand swung out with a glistening goblet of dark, mysterious, and miraculous liquid.
She felt a surge of youth and a mouthful of yummy.
The fair-haired woman caught sight of the coffee wizard who had whisked her to safety.
He was hot and hunky and hulky and happy. His smile could melt a frozen margarita on a smoking hot summer day. It could lure a snaggle-toothed alligator out of the murkiest moat.
This tall drink of water tells the fair-haired woman he wants to sneak her away from dishes and dusting and sweeping and scrubbing.
He says he loves women who carry a few extra pounds and drive sexy mini-vans. He tells her he hates football, workaholics, and men who need to be right.
He’s grown bored of slaying dragons and has taken up a new sport called ‘shopping.’
The hottie wizard speaks of whence he came.
A dreamy place where wizards enjoy cooking and cleaning and compliments and conversation.
He speaks of grand balls, glass slippers, dancing, and of a magic ‘night’ potion called — wine. That turns every fair-haired maiden into a gorgeous princess and every wizard into a handsome prince.
He said it even turned a few frogs. The fair-haired woman gasped that a land like this existed.
It was getting late and she would soon need to again travel near and far and far and near.
The wizard whistled for his jet black stallion. The creature galloped toward its hunky companion.
The hottie wizard with a wild side scooped the fair-haired woman up and onto the majestic beast.
The fair-haired woman felt woozy and wild and flamboyant and free.
She thought the wizard dark and daring and chiseled and charming. Her loose strands playing wildly in the wind as they cantered towards her castle.
The loyal stallion slapped his hoofs to a halt. The wizard slid over its neck and swept the woman to her feet.
He reached for the saddle and pulled out the most gorgeous bottle in all the kingdom.
It was a liquid the color of sweet cranberries or the deepest ruby. The wizard declared it the magical ‘night’ potion he had spoken of.
He warned the fair-haired woman to drink very little of it or it may take her to places beyond anywhere she could imagine.
The wizard flashed his margarita melting grin and shot off towards his mysterious home.
The fair-haired woman popped open the mystical magic nightly potion called wine. She sipped just a bit of the liquid and her feet menaced with motion.
She felt gorgeous and giddy and fabulous and footloose.
She was chatty and cheerful and silly and sublime.
Her castle was once again gleaming. Her grass an emerald green and her moat the muddiest and murkiest in the land.
She slipped on a gown fit for Cinderella and some sizzling, sparkling glass slippers.
She moseyed out past the moat and into the moonlight.
The stars were bright and beaming and the moon was bold and bouncing. The fair-haired woman wandered near and far and far and near.
Until she heard the laughter that belonged only to those who drank a little too much of the night potion.
It was true — this red liquid turned everyone into the prettiest princesses and most handsome princes.
The fair-haired woman found these ruby red potion drinkers the friendliest and funniest and the wildest and wackiest of any in the land.
The clock clanged midnight and the fair-haired woman dashed back into the darkness.
It seemed not only frogs turned to princes but pumpkins into carriages.
The fair-haired woman journeyed near and far and far and near until she ran over the murky moat and up the steps of the castle.
She was pooped and plopped onto the lush and lavish canopy bed and slid between the satin sheets.
The fair-haired woman woke early and the room was spinning and shaking and her head was piercing and pounding.
She slipped and slithered on the satin sheets and bumped and bounced right into the hulky hottie wizard.
She wanted to run and race and scoot and scram.
But it seemed her gown was misplaced and missing and she could find only one of those sizzling, sparkling glass slippers.
She grabbed the hottie hunk’s shirt and traveled near and far and far and near back to her own castle.
…And the fair-haired woman lived happily ever after.
She spent the next night popping open a new bottle of the liquid the color of sweet cranberries and the deepest ruby.
The magic potion that would keep her kingdom together.
She felt a surge of youth and a mouthful of yummy.
After all, she did have one more sizzling, sparkling glass slipper to lose.
