Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy who believed in fairies. The girl believed in a fairy that came to her room and spirited away the dirty clothes, only to return them, washed, dried and folded by the end of every weekend. Sometimes when the fairy was a bit busy, the girl would complain that her clothes had not “come back” from the laundry on time.
The boy, a believer in fairies who deposit dollars into his parents’ accounts and protect him when he takes reckless chances with his safety, wandered into the kitchen one day, trailed by some of his teenaged guy friends and saw a cooling rack filled with fresh chocolate chip cookies. “Where did these come from?” he said.
“The cookie fairy,” replied his sarcastic, flour-dusted, overworked mother.
“I think I have a thing for the cookie fairy,” the boy goofed to his Risk-playing, band geek posse.
“I would think not,” the mother said, “since the fairy is me.”