Delia and the Magic Eraser: a Cautionary Tale

 

My class is killing me.  Literally.  I’m exhausted and there’s no end in sight.  My world has been reduced to studying the effects of risk management but the real risk here is my mental health.  I KNOW there was a reason why I’ve subjected myself to such torture, but I think stress makes a person forgetful. 

In other news, Youngest Son’s class has been studying fairy tales for a few weeks.  In order to get my mind off my hideous class, I’ve written one myself and I thought I’d share it with you.  It’s called “Delia and the Magic Eraser: a Cautionary Tale”.

Here we go…

Once upon a time, there lived an over-40 brunette named Delia.  One day, while attempting to clean the burned-on grease from her stove top with a magic eraser, she became disgusted and started rubbing the eraser even harder.  To her shock and amazement, a genie popped out. 

The genie, a short woman with a voluminous dress, dangling jewelry and a turban wrapped around her head, stood in the middle of Delia’s kitchen.  “I am the Genie of the Magic Eraser, and I’m here to grant you one wish.”  

“I get one wish?”, said the dazed Delia.  “That’s wonderful!  I know EXACTLY what I want to wish for… I would like to change all of the mistakes and bad decisions in my life.  I want them to go away so that I can have a clean slate.”

“I personally think that you should wish for a new stove because that burned on  stuff is never coming off.  But okay, if that’s what you want, your wish is my command.”  The genie threw the foam eraser at Delia’s head and *poof*, a puff of pink smoke-filled the kitchen.

Suddenly, Delia’s life had changed.  It was apparent that things were not even remotely the same as they had been before.  She wasn’t living in the same house (the one she and her husband had bought before seemed like it needed too much work), or even living in the same state (which one of her ancestors had decided that Michigan was a good place to live?  All Delia had seen and heard living in Michigan was recession, doom and gloom).  She didn’t drive the same car (no one had told her that all-wheel drive cars had such poor gas mileage), nor had she attended the same college that she had before.

Delia looked around at all of her perfect decisions and felt elated.  Now THIS was the life that she had dreamed of.  She patted herself on the back for being so insightful.  She also had a perfect figure (she always made excellent food choices), perfect children (she was such a perfect mother) and she was also always on time. 

Time went on and Delia and her family lived in the perfect world that Delia had so carefully planned.  However, there was just one problem.  Delia couldn’t solve problems any more. 

When her children came home with a problem, Delia was stumped, when things went wrong at work, she was flummoxed.  In fact, when ANYTHING went wrong, she didn’t know what to do.  After all, she had never made a mistake before and therefore she had no idea how to fix anything wrong or find a solution. 

One day, when she was attempting to scrub her stove again (it still wasn’t perfect), the Genie of the Magic Eraser appeared.  “Thank heavens you’ve shown up,” said Delia.  “Everything sucks.  I’m completely useless and I want my old life back.” 

The Genie gave Delia a knowing look.  “Of COURSE you’re unhappy.  You chose a life without mistakes and you haven’t learned a darn thing.  We’re given challenges in life to make us better and there’s always a way to improve yourself.  Your permanently dirty stove is hopeless, but your old life wasn’t.”  And, with that, the Genie threw the Magic Eraser back at Delia’s head and in a puff of pink smoke, she was back in her old, imperfect but happy life.   And they all lived happily ever after.

Now you know what the moral to this story is, don’t you? 

I’m completely stressed out and I need a vacation.  

The End.