The Bunny

Michael’s rejective personality permeated every ounce of his being. If something was not the way he liked it, it was not good enough – no matter what it was. Sales clerks were never informative enough, food service was never fast enough, and children were never quiet enough.

It was his life and it suited him well – until Jessica entered his life. She tolerated his personality, but she never tolerated his attitude. One night, after a particularly stressful day listening to Michael comment on and critique their twin toddlers, she put her foot down. “You either learn to accept others for who and what they are, or we are through! The world does not need anymore bullheaded people in it.”

Michael watched as the bedroom door slammed in his face. The hallway to the living room was littered with toys that mocked him as he passed. Mollie’s stuffed bunny rested on the couch and Travis’ cowboy hat filled with megablocks perched on the pillow.

As he sat, surrounded by the life and love that Jessica provided him, he started to cry. Images of his father berating his mother over serving the wrong wine at dinner to his guests played in his mind. Memories of hearing his sister cry on her fourth birthday because she laughed too loud while opening her gifts cracked his heart. His mother’s last words, “see all the faults,” crushed him. He finally understood. It wasn’t the world’s faults – it was his father’s faults she wanted him to see.

He picked up the bunny and looked at all its imperfections – its perfect imperfections and hugged it.


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