Envious Woman Damages Neighbor's Car
An envious woman decides to take revenge on her young, stunning neighbor and especially on her vintage convertible. But things turn out crazy and karma scratches back.
Clair looked at herself in the mirror. She was getting old. Her once slim figure had thickened, her radiant skin had dulled. She was 45 and she looked it. She heard a honk and stepped over to the window.
Her next-door neighbor was pulling into her driveway in a brand new sexy little red convertible, the kind of car Claire had always dreamed of owning. Instead, she drove a huge, ungainly station wagon -- a typical middle-aged mom's car.
"I'm a frump," cried Claire, and burst into tears. Her husband Fred hear her cry and rushed in.
"Honey, what's the matter?" Fred cried anxiously. "Are you feeling sick?"
"I'm OLD!" screamed Claire. "Look at me! I'm fat and I've got wrinkles and no one will ever think I'm sexy again!"
Envy is the most poisonous of emotions.
"I think you're sexy, Claire," said Fred consolingly. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
"You're just saying that because you have to. Look at me! I look like a mother of five, I dress like a mother of five, I drive the ugliest car in the world..."
"That's a great car, Claire!" Fred protested.
"When you gave me that car for my birthday, did you buy it because it would make me feel good or because it was practical?" Claire demanded.
"Well," said Fred carefully, "it's practical, but..."
"My Christmas present was a washing machine!" screamed Claire. "Is that sexy? Is that the kind of present a man gives to a sexy woman? Do you think that the woman next door's husband gives her washing machines? NO! He gives her a sexy red convertible!"
"But, Claire..." said Fred in his reasonable voice.
"DON'T BE REASONABLE FRED! I'm not in the mood! I've spent the last 20 years of my life raising your children, and what do I get? I GET OLD!"
"Honey," said Fred gently, "We all get old. And I love you, you know I do."
"Look, Fred, just look!" said Claire pointing out of the window where her neighbor was stepping out of her red convertible in her sexy high heels, flaunting her voluptuous figure in a skin-tight matching red dress.
Fred did. In fact, Fred's eyeballs nearly popped out and his jaw swung open. "WOW!" he gasped. "That's a great...car!"
"That, Fred," said Claire, "is a sexy, desirable woman's car. That should be MY car, Fred! I want to be sexy, and desirable, and pretty, Fred!"
Claire burst into tears again, and it was all that Fred could do to calm her down before their children came home. "What's wrong with mom?" asked their oldest son Tyrone.
"Nothing," said Fred. "She was just admiring the neighbor's car.."
Their second son Dylan grinned. "That's a HOT car, but then again, so's the neighbor. The station wagon's more your speed mom!"
It wasn't a good day for Claire. That night, she lay next to Fred's snoring bulk and thought about her life. Her feelings condensed into a hot resentment. It was her neighbor's fault. If she hadn't moved in, Claire would never have realized how unhappy she was!
She hated the woman passionately, and at the same time, she envied her life, her youth, her looks, and her car. "If I had that car," Claire said to herself, "I'd feel like a new woman, a sexy beautiful woman!"
But of course, she'd never have a car like that. She was plain Claire, with a middle-aged husband and five hulking boys. She'd never have the thrill of driving a red convertible just a little too fast with the wind whipping her hair...
Three days later, Claire's hatred of her neighbor reached boiling point when she came home from grocery shopping to find the luscious little convertible blocking the entrance to her own driveway.
"How dare she!" cried Claire, climbing out of her medium-brown station wagon. "She's rubbing it in my face!"
She walked around the car. It really was beautiful. The glossy red paint was flawless, not a scratch on it. "Not a scratch?" asked Claire grinning. "We'll see about that!" She gripped her car key in her hand and ran it along the side of the convertible leaving a deep scratch in the paint.
Then Claire walked around to the other side and did the same. Somehow, that just wasn't enough! Claire rummaged inside her handbag and took out a penknife she'd confiscated from her youngest son.
Giggling, Claire plunged the penknife into each one of the tires. "Take that!" Claire crowed triumphantly. "Let's see if you feel sexy now!" Claire parked her car behind the convertible, picked up her groceries, and walked into the house.
She was surprised to find Fred and all five boys waiting for her with big grins on their faces. "SURPRISE!" shouted Fred happily.
"Surprise?" asked Claire. "What surprise?"
"Didn't you see it, honey?" asked Fred.
"See what?" asked Claire.
"Your new car, mom!" cried Tyrone. "Can I borrow it?"
"What car? What are you all talking about?" asked Claire.
"Oh honey, I realized I've been taking you for granted, so the boys and I got you a new convertible, just like the one you liked. I want you to know you're amazing and sexy, and that I love you!" cried Fred.
Claire started crying. The car she'd damaged, the tires she'd slashed were hers, and now she'd have to explain it all to Fred...
What can we learn from this story?
1. Envy is the most poisonous of emotions.
2. Giving in to our destructive impulses will often rebound on us.
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