Throwback Thursday - Would you prefer maggots?

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It was during the era of Mandyland described below that I like to believe Polly was born.  I was in a seriously negative place emotionally and it ended up knocking enough sunshine and sparkles off my eternal optimist to make her tolerable.

Mantel clock
Image courtesy of Lynn Kelley Author

Below is a piece I wrote during the struggle.  

"Lately, I’ve been trying really hard to hold onto my positivity.  I’m a born optimist.  I won the Spirit Award at my high school, and was always the member of my team cheering “We can do it!”  Lately, though, I feel that little optimist inside me dying.  A rollercoaster of ups and downs that have left Little-Miss-Optimist reeling and about to wheeze out her final death rattle, and in anticipation of her death, like a vulture, my internal pessimist is circling.  Little-Miss-Pessimist is closing in and boy oh boy is she CRANKY!

You know those people on Facebook whose status updates proclaim, “Love my life”, or “So blessed”?  They feel so happy and  lucky and thankful that they need to share their gratitude with the world.  

Well, Little-Miss-Pessimist HATES them. Seriously, she wants to punch them in the face and then ask,

“How much do you love your life now?”

Recently, I picked up a bit of on-the-side work for my brother-in-law, requiring me to go through 4 ½ years of paperwork and make note of certain transactional details.  He is paying a VERY nice hourly wage, I can work on it from home (thus eliminating the need for childcare) and it’s the extra income we need right now.

Hooray! Maybe a reprieve for Little-Miss-Optimist?  Just the booster shot of happiness she needs?

Nope, Little-Miss-Pessimist is too strong and the details of the job are delicious fuel for the likes of her.  This job has got to be the most mind numbingly boring gig I’ve EVER had.  Permanent blindness is sure to occur from this project.  I’ve worked 14 hours so far and I’m not even a quarter of the way through.  

Little-Miss-Optimist says, “Hooray, you’re going to make some great bank from this job!”  

Little-Miss-Pessimist says, “I’d rather eat glass!”

Taking a break from the stacks of horrible paperwork, I took my little girl to the park, and while chatting with a one of the other moms she told me her cats had ended up bringing fleas into the house, and ever since the battle against the tiny pests started she couldn’t stop itching.  As she finished her story, Little-Miss-Optimist reared up to offer the following consolation.

While living in Guam, everyone I knew battled against the same innocuous pest.  The common House Fly.  W
hile the battle against the pests raged on I heard a horror story that left my skin crawling.  A couple had bought their dog one of those giant chew bones that last forever, and their dog LOVED his new treat.  He carried it around the house everywhere with him, showing off to visitors and pranching around with glee.   

The dog's masters would smile sweetly at their fury little companion, so pleased he loved their gift, and content in the knowledge that they were the best furparents EVER. 

If only they had known there was a stowaway in the dog’s bone.

See, an adult fly had found the bone the perfect safe and cozy place to lay its eggs.  So, as the sweet dog carried his favorite item around the house, he was unwittingly spreading the eggs everywhere, where they settled into the carpets, and being just as safe and cozy as in the bone, eventually hatched. 

The Result?  Every surface in the small home was infested with wriggling dirty disgusting MAGGOTS!!!

An urban legend? Maybe.

Gross? Um, that goes without saying.

Finishing the story, and ignoring the look of horror on the other woman’s face, my Little-Miss-Optimist took a nice deep breath and gave Little-Miss-Pessimist a swift kick in the pants.  The story was a reminder that even if things seem as bad they could get, they could always get worse.

Because which would you prefer?  Fleas or Maggots?

A little ray of sunshine to brighten whatever pile of crap you are currently dealing with,


And with that Polly’s tagline was born.

Crap, fleas, maggots and sunshine, because sugar and spice were just so cliche!


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