You're now the most flatulent dormouse on the face of the planet.
You're so flatulent, that every time you fart you end up flying into the air!
You even manage to land on the occasional flower, which is great because it hides the smell.
So, anyways ... there's your wish granted!
You know what I'd wish for? I wish someone would place a lighter underneath Sylkat's posterior, so that when she "self-levitates" she'll look like a rocket mouse! 
_________________
It is easy to go down into Hell;
Night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide;
But to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air –
There's the rub, the task.
– Virgil, The Aeneid (Book VI)