Our house is run by mildly competent fairies. When the soap is running low in a bathroom, people announce that we need the soap fairy to visit since the humans can’t possibly refill it themselves. When the toilet paper is low, people call for the toilet paper fairy. Paper towels? Paper towel fairy. Butter in the butter tray? Butter fairy.
I try to warn said humans that, periodically, the fairies go away on business and that refusal to tend to refills could lead to disaster. Once when I was traveling, an unnamed household member texted to say, “Disaster struck. I got stuck on the toilet and had to yell until someone brought me toilet paper.”
This latest jaunt to Utah was not one of those trips.
Yesterday, Lauren texted the family group: We ran out of paper towels. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Then this photo came through:
Tragically, the transport fairy forgot to show up the next morning to bring Graham to his ortho checkup. Try again next week, transport fairy!
His Smile Lit Up a Room and Other Things to Say at My Funeral 
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