The fairies are everywhere

One day a few months ago I was out on an adventure with my father. Most trips with him turn into adventures. I was looking for a rainbow bumper sticker to class up my fancy new car. My father suggested we go to a new age shop in my very small hometown. I didn’t expect to find the bumper sticker there (incidentally, I didn’t) but it was something to do.

 

We walk into this new age shop and there is a woman working there; looking about how you’d expect. Tie dyed, ill fitting, men’s shirt. Weird ugly sandals, bandana on her hair, nose piercing. You get the picture.

 

My dad seemed to know her (no surprise there) and they began chatting about god knows what while I wandered through the shop trying not to eavesdrop.

 

I turned the corner and saw it. A giant wall of ceramic fairy statues. It was so big, so impressive, I couldn’t NOT comment on it.

 

I said something clever like “That’s a lot of fairies.”

fairy statue2

Like this

 

I didn’t even realize they’d heard me until the shopkeeper launched into the story I am about to share with all of you here. You’re welcome.

 

‘I have a couple that come in at least once a month and buy a fairy statue. The wife collects them. They had probably bought about 15-20 when one day the husband came in looking very agitated.

 

He asked if we could buy back the fairy statues. I was surprised to hear this and asked him why. I knew that his wife loved them.

 

He said they were keeping her up at night. They were talking to her and wouldn’t let her sleep. Also, they were saying nasty things about him.’

 

That caught my attention immediately. I looked at this woman, and my father. I studied their faces back and forth for a moment. They were utterly serious.

 

I looked around me, trying to find a weapon. These people had clearly lost their minds and I needed protection. All that was nearby was a magic wand and a softball sized kyanite ball that I’d been admiring. (The kyanite ball was under $400 if someone is looking to buy me a present).

fairy statue3

And this…

 

She continued, ‘I knew the two of them could be happy with all those fairies so I decided to ask him a few questions. I first asked where they kept the fairies.

 

He said that they kept them all in a display cabinet. I was horrified. I told him that he couldn’t keep all those personalities locked up in one place.

 

Then I asked him where in the house did they have the cabinet. He sheepishly admitted that they kept them in the empty spare bedroom.’

 

At this point, without missing a beat, my father interrupted. “Who would keep them all locked together in an empty room. That’s like expecting a room full of five year olds to get along with no adult supervision.”

 

The shopkeeper replied. ‘I know. That’s exactly what I said. I told him that he and his wife were causing all of their problems. Then I asked if they had been discussing getting rid of the statues in front of the fairies.

 

He again said yes and I told him it was no wonder they were saying nasty things about him. He was trying to get rid of them!

 

So I advised him to go home and take them out of the case and put them all over the house in various places and to put them in rooms where they actually spent time. And to reassure them that they weren’t going to get rid of them.

 

Well, he went home and did just that. He came back a few days later thanking me. The fairies were very happy now and letting his wife sleep again.’

 

This entire story was told without an ounce of snark. Something I am not capable of. Then she told us there was an annual fairy fest coming up somewhere nearby which I believe is going on my bucket list of things to do before I die. Which I now need to start.

 

The takeaway of this story, at least for me, was this:

Somehow (and I don’t know how) those two delusional people found each other, fell in love and got married. And if they can, so can you. And so can I. There is hope out there. So don’t give up.

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