Granola bread and salad dressing

he shakes the jar hopefully, the last couple oatmeal flakes bounce
against the glass, he peers inside and whispers an incantation
that sounds a bit like a slight whimper, a tone of desperation,
begging is another way of description, placing the jar in full
view of the granola fairy who usually arrives in a day or two,
he wonders if it's the same fairy that makes the toothsome bread
the neighbors rave about, everyone seems to want some of it, the
slices seem to fly out the door wrapped in moderately clean kitchen
towels, he scowls slightly when the door opens again and a cold
breeze comes in, unless it's accompanied by a piece of pie.
and the salad dressing!  he slices tomatoes and avocado, smacking
his lips only to find the salad dressing is gone, and he is alone,
there is no fairy here, she is at work.