“You are the worst genie ever!”

“What? Why?”

“I said dessert. Dessert. Not desert,” I couldn’t believe it. There was I hankering for something sweet and decadent and instead I was in a sweltering desert. “Is there a manager I can speak to? Can I take that wish back?” I could see the hurt on his blue face.

“You could always make another wish...”

“And trust you to get it right? No chance. If I’d ask you for a million pounds that will probably be what I end up weighing,” the sarcasm in my voice stung the genie so much that he went back inside of his lamp. “Thank god for that,” I muttered as I tried to get my bearings. All I could see was sand and sunshine. It was if I had ended up on the worst package holiday ever.

It felt like days but it probably had only been a few hours. I had tried to pick a direction and stick to it but it seemed impossible given that everything looked the same. My throat was drier than a camel’s sense of humour. I could feel the sunburn taking effect. There was only one thing I could do if I didn’t want to die on a sand dune. I rubbed the lamp three times and nothing happened.

“Genie, I’ve summoned you,” I said aloud, feeling foolish. “Genie!”

“There’s no genie here,” said a voice from inside the lamp, “I’ve retired.”

“I’m sorry about being short tempered with you. Come out. I’m dying out here.” There was a puff of smoke and suddenly I was face to face with my incompetent genie. Looking back I wish I would have asked him why he was blue. Maybe he was going to a fancy dress party as a smurf. He hovered in the air in front of me, his arms folded and his brow as creased as an origami hippopotamus.

“I am the genie of the lamp, I grant...”

“Yes, yes, we’ve done that already,” I interrupted. I could feel the blisters on my skin.

“Fine,” said the Genie, “What do you want then?”

“I want to go home.”

“But I thought I was the worst genie ever.” He had me there. As angry as I had been, I felt as if my entire body was melting.

“I’m sorry for saying that, I didn’t mean it.” He smiled at me, his mouth the size of half a watermelon.

“Ok then. Now what was it you wanted?”

“I want to go home,” I replied, trying to hide the tired frustration in my voice.

“Say it properly,” said the Genie, clearly enjoying teasing me in my sunburned state.

“I wish was at home,” I replied defiantly.

I should have known really. A genie that had already made quite a serious blunder. I really should have known.

“Oh for goodness sake!” I shouted when I realised that I had long, grey beard. There was a pond in front of me. I looked at my reflection and saw a tiny man looking back at me, with a pointy red hat. “Genie,” I cried, “I said I wish was at home, not I wish I was a gnome!”