A much-needed fairy tale for women

Picture by Danielle Pilon on Pexels

Because grown women need fairy tales and wine…

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.

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.

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.

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.

The hottie wizard speaks of whence he came.

A dreamy place where wizards enjoy cooking and cleaning and compliments and conversation.

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 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.

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.

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.

She felt gorgeous and giddy and fabulous and footloose.

She was chatty and cheerful and silly and sublime.

She slipped on a gown fit for Cinderella and some sizzling, sparkling glass slippers.

She moseyed out past the moat and into the moonlight.

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 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.

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 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.

…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.

She felt a surge of youth and a mouthful of yummy.

After all, she did have one more sizzling, sparkling glass slipper to lose.

National Relationship Columnist, Freelance Journalist & Former Business Columnist. All Shapes of Love — #WomanResurrected colleen.sheehy.orme@gmail.com

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