A Lesson In Irony

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A Lesson in Irony


 


It was our neighborhood garage sale.


Domestic goods, assorted hand-me-downs, and used playthings for children of all ages.


One object immediately caught my eye.


An oversized teddy bear, sporting a handsome yet garish blue vest.


It was beautiful, from its lush, soft coat, to the faint smell of sandalwood.


Perfection.


The lady peddling the bear, an image of suburban comfort and normalcy.


A fascinating prospect; the bear, a steal at $1.25.


She informed me in the surest terms that if I were to press the bear's stomach, it would utter the funniest pun in the realm of bear humor.


"It's bear-ey nice to meet you".


 


The purchase of the bear immediately turned to ecstasy.


My childish elation soon turned into disappointment.


No matter how hard I pressed the bear's stomach, the bear refused.


I pressed, and pressed, and pressed, and pressed.


I pressed with every ounce of energy in my tiny body. 


The bear refused.


Anger bubbled up inside me like a furious ocean.


Feelings of rage churned, swirled around , mixing with discontent and exasperation. 


My rage, swelling into a squall of violent toddler fury.


I mauled.


I maimed.


I pummeled that bear to bits.


Ripping off the bear’s arm, in a fit of frustration and ire.


 


My rage soon quelled, settling like a calm sea.


I realized my efforts were futile.


There was nothing I could do.


Complaining to my parents was not an option, after my whims cost them exorbitant amounts of money.


Setting aside the bear, retiring to my room.


As sleep snuck up on me, a noise, amusing yet obnoxious, whispered faintly from downstairs.


Heading downstairs, gripping my foam baseball bat, safeguarding myself.


Emanating from a corner in the living room, the sound grew in intensity.


Darkness, shadows playing across the walls and windows.


The noise appeared to come from behind a chair.


The bars of the chair, a jail cell to its lone prisoner.


What was being imprisoned?


 


I decided to man up.


I charged the corner, with a great yell, one of fear and valor.


Only to find a ragged, one-armed bear.


One noise echoed over and over again.


"It's bear-ey nice to meet you."


 


Irony.


Cruel, cruel, irony.

Created: Dec 29, 2011

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