No one appreciates fairy godmothers. I give and give and give and give and do I even get a thank you in return? No, of course not. Why would anyone think to thank little old me? Did Cinderella ever thank me for conjuring a coach from a pumpkin? No. Did Aurora ever thank me for the marvelous fuchsia dress I made her (which, if I might add, offset her blonde locks perfectly)? No. Did Belle ever thank me for the countless first editions I added to her collection? No. Oh, and it’s not just those spoiled princess that are ungrateful. Did Little Red Riding Hood ever thank me for protecting her from the wolf? No. Did Sneezy ever thank me for curing his allergies? No. Did Pinocchio ever thank me for nudging him onto the right path towards becoming a real boy? You guessed it, of course he didn’t. What must a woman do around here to get a civilized thank you? Must she move mountains? Or must she perhaps save the world from impending evil? Why would anyone think to thank little old me? I mean, it’s my job, right? Is that you’re thinking? That I’ll go about my business breaking my back to grant countless wishes left and right no matter what I get in return? You know what, you’re wrong. That’s it! I am going on strike. To whoever may be listening, I, the illustrious fairy godmother of this here kingdom, will no longer be granting wishes. Hmph! No more last minute sob stories about Prince Charmings and royal balls. No more Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo. No more wishes! Period. See how you all get along without me for a change, you selfish brats! If anyone has the decency to apologize and finally thank me for my years and years of giving, you’ll find me in Hawaii. Time to grant some of my own wishes.