Poor ole Joe Bockkernodd . Upset with life. Work, work all the time. Whenever he saw a girl with her boyfriend, a wife with her husband, he thought, “Oh how lucky they are. Never having to work. Always having somebody to take care of them. Oh, if only he was one of the lucky ones with someone to take care of him.”

Poor ole Joe Bockkernodd . Upset with life. Work, work all the time. Whenever he saw a girl with her boyfriend, a wife with her husband, he thought, “Oh how lucky they are. Never having to work. Always having somebody to take care of them. Oh, if only he was one of the lucky ones with someone to take care of him.”

On this particular Friday night, after a long days work, Poor ole Joe Bockkernod prepared for bed. Tired, exhausted — “Oh, those lucky females,” he said to himself.

Suddenly, there was a round bright light. “Somebody had got an awful big flashlight,” thought Joe.

“I am not a flashlight, “spoke a voice from the light. The light dimmed and there stood the most beautiful human he ever did see. Did I say human? Well, this figure had wings and spoke softly -- “I am a fairy on probation that has been sent to give you your most requested wish.”

“Wish?” thought Joe. “What wish — now, let me see — maybe it is the wish that I could win the lottery. I never won it before. Wonder why?”

“Because you never bought a lottery ticket, you dumbbell,” answered the fairy. “Your fondest wish was to become a woman and have a rich boy friend or husband, so we decided on a boy friend.’

“Let’s see now — I haven’t had any instructions to make you smarter, so I guess I will make you a blonde bimbo,” declared the angel. “Yes, a blonde bimbo. Just right.”

With those words, the fairy said something like,

“Winky, winky, dink.
How you will stink.
How stupid your wish must be,
so you will be a stupid woman, you see.”

With a whisk of a spoon (the store was fresh out of wands), poor Joe Bockkernodd became Josephine Bockernodd.

“Come and give me a kiss, honey bunch, “called a male voice. Josephine looked up and there stood a long bearded fat bald man, with tobacco juice all over his mouth.

Josephine tried to think of some way to get out of this. Maybe kissing him would turn him into a handsome prince. Naw. He’s not a frog — a frog is prettier.

“Gotta go to the bathroom,” replied Josephine.

One thing about it. She decided that she was surely not gonna kiss that thang, whatever it was. She had to escape. She tried the bathroom window. It was too small. She even though about going down through the commode, but all she got was a wet head -- well, that was smaller than the window.

“Aw. Come on,” begged the man. “Gimme a kiss. Look what you got — a perfect specimen of manhood.”

What she got? She had got herself into a mess — that’s what! Should have wished for a pumkin or something. What had she wished for? Maybe she could get a fairy momma who would give her a get-away punkin car like that Cinder-whats-her-name.

The man came staggering into the bathroom. She locked the door so he could not come in, but he was already in.

Puckering up his lips, he said, “Give me a kiss.” Josephine saw the tobacco juice all over his lips and his beard and his breath smelled like rotten potatoes — or was that his feet she was smelling? Surely he took a bath this month.

Josephine always took a bath at least once a month — she hated to go dirty. She even washed her hair once a year. For years, she had considered herself to be a very clean woman with those activities, even though she was a man just a few minutes ago.

“Gotta go to the store,” Josephine said, quickly making an exit for the door. She opened the door and ran into a bunch of clothes (in the closet). “Now, this is a fine place to hang out the wash,” she murmured as she ran through the clothes and into the wall.

“Some durn idiot parked his truck out here, “she exclaimed, turned around, ran around the room and found the other door. “Gotta complain ‘bout that truck.”

Once outside in the night air, she decided to light her cigarette. She realized that she did not have a cigarette, so she smoked her thumb. It did not matter. She did not have a cigarette lighter anyway. She bought some matches once, but they would not light. The manufacturer had put the striking part on the wrong end.

While she was enjoying the good smoke, a nicely dressed intoxicated gentleman walked up to her and asked, “Whatcha a pretty dame like you doing out on a night like this?”

“I dunno,” she said. “Is it raining?” She looked around and it was — pouring down like cats and dogs.

“What a smart man,” thought Josephine. “He knew it was raining. Must be educated or something to be that smart ‘cause he knew that without watching the weather channel.” Josephine was educated, too. She went all the way through school — in the front door and out the back.

“Better come inside with me. You might melt,” offered the nicely dressed intoxicated gentleman. “Betcha you as sweet as ice cream.”

“Yeah, I like ice cream,” answered Josephine.

“Come with me and I will buy you an ice cream factory,” said the nicely dressed intoxicated gentlemen. “I am from Texas and I am a zillionaire. I will take good care of you.”

So, she did — and he did — and Josephine lived happily ever after with someone to take care of her.

The fairy who had worked her magic was not banned as expected for such a stupid spell, but was promoted to changing pumpkins into carriages. However, she got mixed up and turned an evil stepmomma into Santa Claus and all the kids got spinach for Christmas that year instead of candy and received glue to make spinach decorations.

One kid got his eye stuck shut and, when he grew up he went off to sea, but his vision was so bad that he mistook a bottle of olive oil for his girl friend.

Anyway, alls well that ends up in a well, they always say.

THE END OF THIS NONSENSE.

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Secretly copyright by Starla Anne Lowry, but don’t tell anyone.
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