It's a chilly, gray evening. I wish someone would bring me soup. And give me a foot massage. And watch a movie with me. Maybe bake a pie. If I rubbed a lamp and a genie appeared, these are the sort of wishes I would make. I think your wishes should be limited to three only if they're big ass wishes, like a new car or world peace or a night with John Cusack. There ought to be an unlimited supply of small wishes coming true. Which, when I think about it, happens almost daily without a stinking genie. Pardon me while I get on with the two final episodes of Once Upon a Time, Season 4. If you're in the neighborhood and happen to have soup and pie and are capable of a moderately decent foot rub, do stop by.
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