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Childhood Family

And they lived happily ever after…

I love fairy tales. In particular, I love the happy ending of fairy tales, where everything works out in the end and life is super-dee-duper perfect at the end of the story. I am a bit of a sentimental sap in this manner. I want the good guy to win. I want karma to be exacted on those deserving, both good and bad. And ultimately, I want the protagonist to live happily ever after.

I see life as a series of stories, and sure, some have sad endings. But there are far more chances for happy endings in our myriad collection of short stories. Just imagine, how wonderful it would be if some of the stories in our (my?) life could end on a happy note. For example:

“Then, in the morning, when Dad came downstairs to turn on the coffee pot and make his breakfast, the remote control was sitting right there on the table, rather than being wedged under a couch cushion, shoved in a dog’s bed, nestled in the azaleas, etc., and the TV was already on Sportscenter…”

“And Dad went to get ready for bed, and he found his toothpaste was not only capped, but also did not have streams of toothpaste dragged across the countertop.”

“Dad went to the potato chip bag, and it was folded nicely and cleanly. And inside were actual potato chips, not just a bunch of smushed crumbs.”

“In the morning, the children prepared for school, and every single shoe in the whole kingdom had a matching mate.”

“And the orange warning light on the dashboard, which once foretold of imminent doom, quietly went away, and the car was perfect from that day on.”

“And the brother and sister rode the whole car trip with their hands, feet, electronics, books, magazines, Cheez-Its, etc. entirely to themselves.”

“At 9:00, the entire house was silent, save for the gentle snores of sleeping children, who had also cleaned their rooms before bed.”

“And the electric starter on the grill worked forever, and he never again had to risk singeing his eyebrows by lighting it with matches.”

“The bump jostled the car, but the coffee in mid-sip went straight up and right back down in the travel mug, leaving Dad’s pants free of coffee stains on the way into work.”

“On a crazy hunch, he answered the unknown number on his cell, and it was not a security system pitch, a credit card reduction offer, or a free cruise offer, but rather a friend who had just changed cell phone numbers.”

“And the car shot passed him and then cut him off. And then the blue lights appeared, passing our hero and pulling right behind the offending driver.”

“And a local television commercial appeared on television, but the volume did not immediately jump to 8 billion decibels.”

“Although it was late in the morning, he ventured to the break room, empty mug in hand. And there it was — a freshly brewed pot of coffee, made by a forever unknown benevolent stranger.”

“And despite the power outage the night before, for whatever reason, everyone woke up a few minutes before the actual alarm would have gone off.”

“Just as the panic of realizing he had failed to take out the trash that morning, it suddenly dawned on him — Monday holiday. Trash day was moved back a day.”

“And he searched the parking lot for a cart, but alas, they were all inside, snuggled neatly in a dry, warm row inside the store, as all of the patrons in the world had become awesome people.”

So I am sure you have some of your own fairy tale endings you would love to see. E-mail or tweet me and perhaps we can do another round of these. And we can all live happily ever after…

Mike Gibbons was born and raised in Aiken, S.C., and now lives in Charleston. A graduate of the University of Alabama, you can e-mail him at scmgibbons@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @StandardMike.

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