Gary shouted his daily affirmations, voice cracking like a disgruntled kazoo. “I am confident! I am capable!” His parrot, Polly, squawked back, “I am confident! I am capable!” Gary grinned. Then Polly flapped to the lamp and screeched, “I am rich!” as she yanked down a ceiling fan. The room went dark. “What the hells?” Gary yelled. Polly perched on his head, pecking his ear. “I am loved!” she cackled, stealing his favorite sock. Gary stared at the chaos—socks, feathers, a shattered lightbulb. “Maybe…” he muttered, “affirmations are working.” Polly squawked, “I am successful!” as she launched a pillow at the wall. Gary laughed until his ribs ached. The parrot’s nonsense was louder than his doubt. Maybe positivity wasn’t about perfect phrases. Maybe it was about embracing the madness. He patted Polly’s head. “I am grateful,” he said. Polly replied, “I am grateful,” while stealing a banana from the counter. Gary shook his head. Some affirmations needed a little chaos.
