Prologue
"It's not fair! She always gets invited to sleepovers." I could see the green ooze rising up in child Q's eyes as she spewed forth her injustice.
"Not true." I said. "You were just at a sleepover a few weeks ago, and you certainly have been to more birthday parties than child P."
I could see by child Q's pursed lips, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, that my opening arguments were not going to win the case. In her mind, an injustice was done and there was no way to rectify it.
Chapter 1
Ah jealousy. It creeps up on us. Twists our thoughts. Grabs hold of our hearts. I can see it clearly when it glows green in the eyes of the little women in my life, but what about when the green ooze rises up in my eyes? It's hard to see with green goop in my eyes, so I don't notice it at first. But for me, this is generally how it goes:
"You got your book published? How wonderful!" I say to the smiling author.
She beams back at me displaying a full set of perfectly whitened teeth and a California tan.
I grumble inside. She's just too perky. I bet that little perky personality landed her that book deal. I bet she doesn't have any kids at home either, and if she does, she's probably ignoring them and hiding out in her office somewhere writing as if she has no other responsibilities or her perfect husband sent her off to some remote beach house with a blessing spoken through shining white teeth: "Go ahead, Darling. I'll make dinner, help the kids with their homework, and even do the laundry while you're away. Don't you worry about a thing. And, Sweetheart, feel free to stay until your book's written...from the dedication to the epilogue." (And believe me, I've had worse thoughts, but one can't write such things on blogs about redemption--the readers might think I haven't been redeemed. :)
Yep, the green-eyed monster gets me sometimes, and when I finally take a peek at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. It's U-G-L-Y!
Chapter 2
So how do I slay this monster? I begin by praying for my victim--the one I thought all of those "wonderful" thoughts about. Then I think: Maybe that book deal has taken her years of blood, sweat, and, tears. Maybe underneath all the pretty teeth is a person who has tasted pain far greater than I've ever experienced. What if she died tomorrow or her husband or her child, would I still be jealous? What if...
And somehow, I don't feel so jealous anymore.
Epilogue
The morning of the sleepover was dreary and child P's eyes were heavy with fever. Child Q sat eating her cereal, healthy and strong. And I, having lived a few more years and having had to
slay a few more green-eyed monsters, took the time to pass along my hard-earned wisdom and explained to child Q how to raise her sword.
"It's not fair! She always gets invited to sleepovers." I could see the green ooze rising up in child Q's eyes as she spewed forth her injustice.
"Not true." I said. "You were just at a sleepover a few weeks ago, and you certainly have been to more birthday parties than child P."
I could see by child Q's pursed lips, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, that my opening arguments were not going to win the case. In her mind, an injustice was done and there was no way to rectify it.
Chapter 1
Ah jealousy. It creeps up on us. Twists our thoughts. Grabs hold of our hearts. I can see it clearly when it glows green in the eyes of the little women in my life, but what about when the green ooze rises up in my eyes? It's hard to see with green goop in my eyes, so I don't notice it at first. But for me, this is generally how it goes:
"You got your book published? How wonderful!" I say to the smiling author.
She beams back at me displaying a full set of perfectly whitened teeth and a California tan.
I grumble inside. She's just too perky. I bet that little perky personality landed her that book deal. I bet she doesn't have any kids at home either, and if she does, she's probably ignoring them and hiding out in her office somewhere writing as if she has no other responsibilities or her perfect husband sent her off to some remote beach house with a blessing spoken through shining white teeth: "Go ahead, Darling. I'll make dinner, help the kids with their homework, and even do the laundry while you're away. Don't you worry about a thing. And, Sweetheart, feel free to stay until your book's written...from the dedication to the epilogue." (And believe me, I've had worse thoughts, but one can't write such things on blogs about redemption--the readers might think I haven't been redeemed. :)
Yep, the green-eyed monster gets me sometimes, and when I finally take a peek at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. It's U-G-L-Y!
Chapter 2
So how do I slay this monster? I begin by praying for my victim--the one I thought all of those "wonderful" thoughts about. Then I think: Maybe that book deal has taken her years of blood, sweat, and, tears. Maybe underneath all the pretty teeth is a person who has tasted pain far greater than I've ever experienced. What if she died tomorrow or her husband or her child, would I still be jealous? What if...
And somehow, I don't feel so jealous anymore.
Epilogue
The morning of the sleepover was dreary and child P's eyes were heavy with fever. Child Q sat eating her cereal, healthy and strong. And I, having lived a few more years and having had to
slay a few more green-eyed monsters, took the time to pass along my hard-earned wisdom and explained to child Q how to raise her sword.
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