Three times a year, you get a guardian angel completely at your disposal. Now is one of those times. Turn in a wish list. No fair making those wishes for someone else, either. They'll have their own shot at the title soon enough.

Now is one of those times.

I started working on my list right away, but felt sudden suspicion, and checked another horoscope, to see if they meshed. Here's the other one:

If you want it, you can have it now. There's just no other way to say it. If you really want it, you won't be shy about letting that fact be known, which means the universe will step in and make the arrangements for you. Basically, all you have to do now is to show up with a wish list. Pretend you're five, you're sitting on Santa's lap, and you've been a very, very good kid. Then look outside. The bike will be waiting outside your door with the bell, the streamers, basket and everything!

Leery as I am of too-good-to-be-true schemes, I'm going to go for this one. First off, it's a no-lose deal for me. Second, what if these two disparate horoscopes are right, and I lack the faith even make a simple wish? OK, three wishes, but still--no harm there.

The bicycle outside the door reminds me of a time when I was five, and we lived in Lexington, Massachusetts. On my birthday, my parents told me they had a surprise for me, and tied a blindfold over my eyes. They had tied a ribbon to the front door, and they placed my hand on the ribbon, and told me to follow it. They walked alongside me so I wouldn't trip, my mother's hand steadying my arm, ready to catch me. I followed the ribbon around to its end, at the handlebars of a sparkly purple tricycle.

I don't remember my reaction, but I'm sure it was happy, and I'm also sure it was fake, because the second they'd blindfolded me, I inched the blindfold up so I could see underneath it. I saw the tricycle yards before we got to it, and had time to manage my response. There was no way I was going to walk blindly into the unknown, even then.

I loved the purple tricycle--don't think I was jaded, just wary, owing to wildly inconsistent parenting, which led to my understanding that those with the power to surprise and delight also hold the power to disappoint.

So it's time for me to make some wishes. I figure if "the time is now," I have until midnight. Pacific Standard Time.

I don't want to contemplate the wishes here, because it feels like hedging my bet, like peeking under the blindfold.