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I am Donald Duck.

My kids have been watching a lot of Disney channel lately. Sometimes between shows, they show short versions of old cartoons starring Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy. I don’t know if it’s just the way they edit them, but there seems to be a trend in the types of stories these characters feature in.

Mickey, for example, totally forgets about a big, important date with Minnie. He hurriedly dresses, but on his way, Pluto tracks him down and accidentally . . . well, mauls him. He arrives wearing a tin can instead of a top hat, his tuxedo in tatters. As he turns to yell at Pluto for ruining the evening, Mickey realizes Pluto has just been trying to give him the tickets he left at home—and the dance is a “Hard Times” party. What looks like a disaster miraculously becomes a happy ending.

Goofy faces similar mishaps. My favorite Goofy cartoon of all time is “The Art of Skiing,” but just about all of his cartoons feature the same shtick: a lot of falling, injuries, bad luck, confusion, misguided attempts at following instructions, etc. In the end of “The Art of Skiing,” Goofy ends up in bed—he’s lucky to be alive. He made it through the day and took the hilarity in stride.

Donald, too, suffers from bad luck. One cartoon they often show is Donald following the directions on a radio cooking show to make waffles. Instead of baking powder(?), however, he uses rubber cement. His waffle batter basically attacks him, destroys his house, and causes him endless frustration. All of his efforts to get rid of the offending batter only make things worse—and make him more mad. In the end, he goes berserk, runs to the radio station, and beats up the show’s host. In another cartoon, he ends up trapped after fighting a folding bed all night. The closest he comes to winning is occasionally venting his frustrations, but he and everything around him end up hurt and broken.

But let’s be realistic: I’m no Mickey Mouse. I’m not even a Goofy. I’m a Donald. When things get rough, it seems like every effort I make just digs me deeper. And in the end, I’m a screaming, tantruming mess—and that doesn’t really make anything better either.

And since we’re being realistic now, it’s probably not realistic to expect that everything is going to magically be okay in one instant—especially not without any effort on my part. Note that all three characters have bad things happen. I keep thinking if I can just get to a Mickey Mouse Life, I won’t have problems. That’s just not true.

Maybe I can’t magically have everything go my way. But I can work on changing my attitude so I take my problems as they come and still be happy to be alive. Mickey Mouse might not be my future, but maybe one day, I can work my way up to Goofy.

What do you think? Which category do you fall in?

3 replies on “I am Donald Duck.”

Oooh! I can comment because this doesn’t just apply to motherhood!

If only I could be so lucky to be Mickey Mouse. I think I’m a cross between Goofy and Donald. Sometimes my efforts to remedy a situation only make matters worse and that’s because either I don’t know what I’m doing or I’m just being plain old stupid.

Case in point…last week we had two pretty big snowfalls within two days of each other. Usually I wait until I actually have to drive my car to shovel, but past experiences have taught me to shovel out immediately after a storm. So I did…after the first storm. But then after the second, I was too cold and lazy and I sort of told myself I had already done most of the work. Well six days later and a dozen or so hours of trying to crack ice with a plastic shovel made me furious. So I gunned the gas for about two hours thinking I’d eventually get out. Nope. I’d only created a little canyon of ice around my car and had to be towed.

I still can’t see the hilarity of the situation.

But it’s interesting that you wrote about this matter today because I had an exchange with someone that absolutely would have sent me into Donald Duck mode. I mean, everyone (especially me) would have ended up hurt and broken had I not consciously made a decision to walk away. Part of me still wants to be Donald because my brain really has been hardwired to respond like a crazy person when it comes to this person, but I went to bed so sure that being mean or angry and acting out of those feelings wouldn’t make things better.

Seeing how I handled that situation shows me that I don’t have complete control over anyone or anything, but that makes it a whole lot easier to find some good in the journey or laugh it off.

I consider myself a cross between Mickey and Donald; not so much in the happy Mickey ways. I often find myself in the midst of a huge mess or mishap, turn to scold one or more of the boys only to find (often after the scolding) that they were trying to help or saw something I didn’t. The guilt trip that throws me on is hardly the happy ending-Hard Times dance, but still; some similarity:)

And in everything else I am Donald. I used to throw my fits out loud. Now I just argue with myself inside my head. Things get pretty beat up in there sometimes.

But my attitude has greatly improved over the last few years. I may just be on pace to be as even tempered as my mom by the time I die (IhopeIhopeIhope!)!

Oh my gosh, that is so funny and so true! I think I am a mix of all 3 and can only strive to be more of a mickey. This definately applies to my kids too! We’ve gone to disney at halloween time and they dressed as huey, louie, and dewey. I never even thought about the personality traits of mickey, donald and goofy. Very interesting!! 🙂

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