I discovered that I am magic and have the power to grant my own wishes. I did not know this, or I’d have been more careful. Apparently the wish granting is less “I Dream of Jeannie” and more “Monkey’s Paw.”
It started on Christmas eve. We were expecting a cold snap, complete with a dusting of snow. Lovely! I was dreaming of a white Christmas and all that. The paw twitches. Ha. Dusting of snow, my hind foot! Try five inches. My neighborhood is uphill both ways, and here in the South, our communities don’t invest a whole lot in snow equipment. I got my white Christmas, sure. But then I also got a mile walk in the snow and a three hour wait for someone to haul me to work on Christmas.
Husband always gets a little glum at the holidays, especially this year since we’re socially distanced from extended family. I wished he would quit his bellyaching. The paw twitched. He did, but it involved emergency surgery to remove the source of the bellyache.
Husband and I had wished for a little getaway, just the two of us. The paw twitched. We got it. But this is the worst hotel ever. It’s the most expensive hotel we’ve ever stayed in, but the only thing on the room service menu is ice chips, and the good drugs are only given to one of us. I am pretty sure the bell hops are vampires because they sneak in here in the middle of the night and steal blood. And sometimes urine. That last one has me puzzled. I learned everything about vampires from Twilight, and they didn’t cover pee, Maybe it’s a wolf thing?
I think we might be staying in the Hotel California, because we checked in, but they won’t let us leave. Well, they don’t seem to care if I’m here, but it’s not a fun vacation if husband can’t sight-see with me And since we’re still in our hometown, so there aren’t that many sites TO see. So here I sit, watching The Office and texting home to make sure the children haven’t gone feral.
We wished for more time together. The paw twitched. Now we have nothing BUT time. A type A personality and type… Z? locked in one room together for days on end. Husband keeps telling me how to clean, and I may have threatened to smother him with his advance directive.
I’m hoping that we’re back on track soon, and that maybe my wish-making was just a 2020 phenomenon. I’m going to be careful not to make any more wishes, just in case there is any leftover 2020 floating around. I might try again in February, but not like I did last year, when I wished for travel and the whole world went to hell.