The Perfectionist

“You’re such a worry wart,” said Mrs. Cleverchek. Even at only eight years old, Lucy’s forehead was showing the creases that would become permanently etched into her face by the time she turned 25. Mrs. Cleverchek continued to try and calm the child’s fretting over the animal drawing she was making for art class. But, Lucy was not satisfied with the way it was turning out. Her eyebrows scrunched forming a scowl just above the bridge of her nose, she pursed her lips, and grunted. Mrs. Cleverchek moved on to the next student knowing that there was nothing that could be done about a child so intent on perfection beyond both her years and abilities.

Lucy strived to be perfect. She clearly could see in her head the image she wanted to draw, but the crayons just would not cooperate. It was the same with so many things.

Just last week she had been given permission to invite her classmate, Donna, to ride the bus home with her from school for a playdate. Lucy was very excited to show Donna the collection of postcards she had received from all over the world after sending out six chain letters she had painstakingly typed all by herself. It had been an arduous task, one her mother had quite plainly discouraged. “Lucy, don’t be ridiculous,” she had said, “no one ever follows through with those things. You’ll be lucky to get one postcard.” But Lucy knew she would be different. She’d show her mother. And she had shown her. Lucy received 72 postcards from as far away as Australia, and as close as Chicago. It had been thrilling and she wanted to show Donna, who had only received one postcard.

When Lucy and Donna arrived home on the designated date, Lucy’s mom fixed them a snack. “Lucy, why don’t you go ahead and get your box of postcards so you can show them all to Donna?” Lucy flashed her mom a bright smile and ran off to her room to get the box. Lucy’s little sister, Karen, a first grader, hopped up into the kitchen banquette to join in. Lucy plopped the box on the table and opened the lid. She began with a postcard from London, England. Her sister, Karen, wanting to demonstrate some of her newly acquired reading skills, reached in the box to pull out one of the cards. “They’re mine!” Lucy said snatching away the card.

Tears began to well in Karen’s eyes. Her mom gently chided Lucy about sharing saying, “You have 72 postcards, Lucy, you can let Karen help show the cards to Donna.” But, Lucy only became more aggrieved. She stubbornly insisted that this was her friend, her cards, and her little sister could go do something else. The characteristic scowl appeared on Lucy’s face and she moved the box away from her sister’s reach. Karen reached across the table and pulled another card out of the box. “Mom!” yelled Lucy. With that, Lucy was sent to her room and Karen showed Donna the rest of the cards.

Professor Martin said, “What are you so worried about, Lucy? You have an A going into this final exam. Relax, you’ll be fine.” Lucy’s face, forming the now nearly permanent scowl, glared back at him. She held a stack of 3x5 cards wrapped both directions with rubber bands so that they wouldn’t accidently scatter if she dropped them. She had taken all precautions, studied diligently, and, as Professor Martin said, would do well on the exam. But she planned to do better than well. She planned to get a perfect score.

Copyright DJ Anderson, 2019 (image by WavebreakMediaMicro/stock.adobe.com)

Comment Prompts

• Why is Lucy so determined?
• What can be assumed about her upbringing?
• What can be said about her relationship to her mother? Her sister? Her friend?
• What do you think about the mom’s responses?
• What can be predicted about Lucy’s future?