Cruelty banned when I run the world

‘He is so mean.”

I was grumbling out loud, irritated by the antics of a minor celebrity. I’d watched him use a position of relative power to pick, pick, pick at people who couldn’t fight back. And it irritated me.

“He ought to have to stand eye-to-eye with the people he’s so mean to,” I said to my daughter, who was trapped in the car with me and couldn’t escape my tirade.

“If I had my way, he would have to say he was sorry, and he wouldn’t get away with it again.”

“Well,” my daughter pointed out reasonably, bored with the whole subject. “You don’t run the world.”

True. But I sometimes wish I did.

How much damage could I do?

If I were in charge, bullies like the man who had set me off, people who forget that they are not very different from those they belittle, would be punished and would have to change their ways. Or, better yet, there wouldn’t be any bullies to punish. Everyone would follow the rules. And the rules would all be golden.

Words would fall on us all like a soft rain and couldn’t be used as weapons.

Tender feelings wouldn’t be hurt, and fragile hearts would never break.

Love would be evergreen. And time, disillusionment, boredom, anger and indifference wouldn’t take their toll.

We would all live forever, and no one would ever hurt a child.

If I called the shots, middle age wouldn’t mean a thing, and old age would be more like a vacation than anything else, a time to rest and enjoy the world around you without having to worry about the future. A time to savor lessons learned and wisdom gained from experience.

Houses would clean themselves and animals wouldn’t shed, smell bad or ask to go out in the middle of the night.

Laundry would appear in drawers and closets, clean, folded and pressed and smell like a field of lavender.

Cell phones wouldn’t ring at the movies, babies wouldn’t cry on airplanes and credit card statements wouldn’t arrive in the mail.

Every woman would be a perfect size six or 16 – it wouldn’t matter – and fabulous shoes would never pinch your feet. There would be no bad hair days and getting out of bed in the morning would always be easy.

Men would enjoy talking about how they feel and wouldn’t worry about losing hair or gaining a few inches around the waist.

In my perfect world, ice cream would be guilt – and calorie – free, and anything eaten while reading would only make you slimmer and healthier. There would be hours in the day for cuddling and whispering and television would be served a la carte. If at all.

There would always be pots of piping hot tea on the table and oatmeal cookies in the oven.

Nasty colds wouldn’t make their way around the office and the stomach flu would be as rare as rickets.

And every Friday night, at 5 o’clock on the dot, would be met with one perfect martini.

My daughter is right. I don’t run the world.

But if I did, things might not be that bad. And, if I ever do get my way, I know at least one bully who will have to say he is sorry and promise to never be mean again.