Excerpt:
Harlan spoke first. “You’re not real!”

The little flying person said, “Well, that’s disappointing. For me, anyway.”

“Of course she’s real, Harlan,” said Ainsley. “She’s a fairy. I made a wish and here she is!”

Actually, I’m not a fairy,” said the creature. I’m a frongle.”

“Of course you’re a fairy,” said Ainsley. “I made a wish on a dandelion, and you appeared. That makes you a fairy.”

“Well, actually, it doesn’t. You know, it so annoying. Somebody starts a rumor, maybe two hundred human years ago, that fairies offer dandelion wishes and boom, frongles – the real hard workers – get left in the fairy dust.”

Are frongles like fairies?” Ainsley soldiered on. The frongle sighed. “No, not even a bit alike. I am definitely not a fairy. You got that? NOT a fairy. You have no idea how sick I am of being called a fairy. Just because we answer dandelion wishes, people assume we’re fairies. Floating around at the edge of the yard. La-de-da! Oooh, look at the pretty fairies. Please!”

Harlan and Ainsley stared, unsure what to say to that outbust.

“Right, not a fairy,” Harlan finally said.

“Got it. A frongle – definitely a frongle,” his sister added. “My name is Ainsley and this is my big brother Harlan.”

“Nice to meet you. My name’s Zootfrog, from the Fruitfly Bay Frongle Collective.”
“Never heard of it,” said Harlan.

“Hmm, maybe you know it as the FBFC?”

“I don’t think so.” Harlan crossed his arms and gave the frongle a look.

“Boy, we’ve so got to work on our marketing,” Zootfrog said, then brightened and smiled at Ainsley.

“Anyway, what’s your wish, cupcakes?”

“Well, it’s a big one,” Ainsley said uncertainly.

Zootfrog rolled her eyes. “Not a pony. I’m so sick of dishing out ponies to every second little girl.”

“No, not big like a pony. Big, like a hugely important wish.”

Zootfrog slowed her wings and leaned forward. “An important wish.” I don’t get asked for many of those. If it’s not a pony, it’s the latest Harry Potter merchandise, or maybe some chocolate.”

“We don’t need chocolate,” Harlan said. “We’ve got problems. Well, our dads has, and we need some help.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in me,” Zoofrog said, giving him a look. “Anyway, it’s your sister’s call. Come on, Ainsley, hit me.”

“You want me to punch you?” Ainsley asked, genuinely shocked.

“No, I meant ‘hit me’ as a figure of speech. Hit me with your wish.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” Ainsley was a little embarrassed.

“Well, OK. I wish our dad had a brand-new also-mom to love him forever and to love us and to make him stop moping and playing sad music.”

Zootfrog was silent for a long time. She flew into the branches of the tree and sat, head in hands, thinking. Then she zoomed back to the kids, who were staring hopefully at her. She cocked her head and looked at them.

“You were right,” Zootfrog said finally. “That’s a biggie. Maybe I was a little hasty taking the pony offer off the table.”

“I’m sorry,” Ainsley said. “I don’t need a pony, but Dad does need an also-mom.”

“Ok, let’s go through it. We’re talking about an also-mom. Love forever. No more sad music. There’s actually a few wishes in there, not just one.”

“We don’t mind if Dad plays the sad music as long as he doesn’t get that look on his face,” Ainsley said.

“It’s got to be somebody he’s known for a long time, so that she knows what he’s like, and it won’t go wrong if she discovers that he eats grilled avocado and-tofu sandwiches for breakfast,” Harlan said.