What really happened was just this: once--I refuse to say "Once upon a time for a good reason"--there lived--and still do--a mother, whose name is Joan, and her two daughters, whose names are Paula and Veggitina. They aren't perfect angels, but the way the author of the original story put it, they sound like demons. That isn't actually the case. They are pretty nice, and although they aren't real beauties, they work their share and are, in most ways, just like you and me.

     Now, these ladies live in Kentucky. No, not in England, not in France, but in Kentucky. They are pretty happy living there. Then one day this farmer came along. He wasn't rich, and he certainly wasn't poor. He and his daughter Ellen had moved from place to place, and had finally decided to settle in Kentucky, don't ask me why. He settled...surprise, surprise...right next to Joan's farm.

     After a while, the farmer, my son, who does have a name, but I will not say it, married Joan. Ellen was a little skeptical. Her mother had died, and having a new mother didn't help. But it wasn't her choice, her father told her, and she had better keep quiet. So without a word--and the occasional groan--they moved into Joan's place. Ellen, who was later christened "Cinderella" by those who were oblivious to the real story, wasn't really all that nice. She wasn't that mean, but altogether, she really wasn't your favorite person. She was pretty, that's for sure. She did her share of the work. That's true, so I can't blame her for that. But she didn't seem all that enthusiastic about it.

     So one day, out of the blue, one of Paula's friends invites Paula and Veggitina to a party. Ellen had just moved in, so of course not everyone knew her. But she got all mad because she wasn't invited. Her parents got fed up and went out to dinner so they could have some peace and quiet. I don't blame them.

     So I show up. Not by magic. Not just appearing. No. I climbed into my new red convertible and drove over there. And I didn't know a thing about what was going on with this birthday stuff. I just came over for the fun of showing off my car.

     Ellen was sitting on the deck, crying. Oh please, I thought, but went over to her anyway. After all, I was her grandmother.

     "Hi ya, Ellen. How ya doing? Hey, where is everyone?"

     "At...the party I wasn't invited to. They are having a great time while I get to stay here!"

     I was pretty skeptical of this. I mean, she could have made an effort to know some people and therefore been invited to their parties. But she hadn't. "Oh, well. Maybe next time, Ellen. Listen, is your mom home? I need to talk to her." Of course I didn't, really, but any excuse to get away from this weepy kid would help.

     "Nah, she went out too. With Dad. Now I'm here all alone. Say... you're a grandma."

     "Yeah." I looked at her. "Yeah, I'm a grandma."

     "I know that."

     "Then why did you say, 'Say...you're a--'"

     "I know, I know," she said hurriedly. "But in this story I read, this grandma can grant three wishes and stuff. Can you do that?"

     Now I thought she was completely crazy. But I decided to play along. "Hmm... yeah, OK, I guess I could."

     "Great! Well, my first wish is to--"

     "Hold on!" I shouted. "No way. One wish, please. Three wishes are too many for an old lady like me. Even Grandmas get tired once in a while."

     "All right. Well, my wish is...get me to that party! I've just got to go! Get me a new dress, new shoes, like the ones Paula has... and a limousine."

     "That's one wish?" I commented in exasperation. I sat down next to her. "Anyway, how are you going to get there without an invitation?"

     "That too." Ellen looked excited.

     I almost told her to forget it. "Well, I'd better get to work. When does the party start?"

     "Gee, it's already started."

     "When does it end?"

     "Well... it says on the invitation Paula and Veggitina got. I think it's... midnight."

     I glanced at my watch. It was eight o'clock. There was no time to lose. First, I got on Joan's phone. I called Joe's Limousine Service. "Hello? This is Wanda Bea Fairy here." Ellen's eyes became as large as saucers. "I would like a limousine to pick my granddaughter up at eight-thirty and drop her off at Joan McBeek's place. (Pause) Oh, you could? That's great. See you then!"

     I hung up. Now I needed to get the dress.

     I drove to Bellairs and got a beautiful red dress. It cost a fortune. In Paula's closet I found gorgeous shoes that didn't fit her anymore, but were just right for Ellen. Ellen was delighted.

     "Oh, boy, you're like the fairy godmother in the book! Great. Now I want the invitation. How do I get that?"

     I was stumped. Out of ideas. Kaput.

     "Gee, I don't know. You'll have to work that out for yourself. If anyone asks, say you're Paula's cousin. Listen, the limousine service works up to twelve o'clock. You've got to be finished dancing by then and go out and meet the driver. If you don't, the limousine will leave without you. OK? Great. Hey! There's the limousine! Good luck, kid. Remember at midnight!"

     "Midnight!" Ellen called back. With that she dove into the back seat of the limousine and drove off.

     I was pretty content. I mean, here I was, watching my granddaughter in a limousine, this whole empty house behind me, and no one home! Things aren't what they seem... especially with Grandmas.

     Well, Paula and Veggintina were having a blast at the party. The music was deafening; a fog machine poured smoke-like mist across the floor, and bright colored lights were swinging all over the place.

     When Ellen, who was looking pretty good--courteous moi--came into the room, everyone stopped dancing and looked at her. Not even the hostess noticed she hadn't invited her.

     After some time, the music started up again and Ellen danced her heart out. At midnight, everyone was admiring her and her dance moves. Suddenly Ellen remembered and ran out of the door, leaving behind one of her high heels. The hostess, whose name was Denise, rushed after her, picking up the shoe. "Wait!" she cried. " Where are you going?"

     Ellen hopped into the limousine just in time. As it was speeding down the hill, she sighed and wondered if she'd ever go to a party like that again. So Ellen came home, thanked me, put on her nightgown, and flopped on her bed.

     I knew Paula and Veggitina would be steaming if they knew what we had pulled off, so I tucked the dress under Ellen's bed and shoved the single shoe in the back of Paula's closet. "There," I said aloud and drove back home.

     The next afternoon Paula told Ellen about the announcement Denise had made during recess. "Whoever fit the shoe that had been left behind would be her best friend." Ellen nearly burst out shouting: Me! I was the one! But, of course, she couldn't.

     That same afternoon Denise came over and tested Veggitina. No such luck. The shoe fit like a size 2 fits a size 12.

     Paula tried it, but it was like trying to fit and elephant into an ant farm. Denise noticed something familiar about Ellen, who was sitting on the couch, watching. She called, "Hey girl, ya wanna try it on? It hasn't fit anyone yet. You guys are the last ones. Yeah, that's right. It doesn't fit anyone!!"

     Paula took a close look at the shoe. It was her shoe!

     Ellen tried it on. It fit! Denise whooped. But Paula pulled Ellen aside. "That was my shoe," she whispered.

     Ellen nodded weakly.

     Paula started to laugh. "Who helped you? I can't believe it!"

     "Grandma."

     "Hah! That is too funny. Figures... that grandma."

     The whole thing was explained to Denise. She was a little angry with being tricked but had to laugh about the shoe part. She became best friends with Vegitina, Paula, and Ellen.

     But don't say you know all this. I mean, who'd believe you? Take it from a "Fairy Grandmother." I know what I'm doing.