Have you ever caught yourself daydreaming of an escape from the reality your life to find a better, easier, or more exciting one with less problems? As a wife and mother of three young kids, I often romanticize about having everything done for me by my own personal assistant, or “wife,” if you will. And sometimes my fantasy goes as far as wishing for an A-list lifestyle so that I could hire someone to do everything for me. Imagine What’s Possible (see how I worked in the theme of this year’s Oscars? Clever, huh?)! The thought of the hair, the makeup, the jewelry, the red carpet attention, and the parties sounds like such a relief from the nonstop cooking and cleaning, scrubbing poop off the walls and boogers off the couch, doesn’t it? After living out my fantasy for a few days I realized that maybe the average, normal life I currently have isn’t so bad after all. When I really think about it, I’m playing the greatest role ever written for the script of life – that of a wife and mother. It is the perfect character fit for me; it’s the one I was born to play and one I wouldn’t trade for any amount of gold.
Ok, so here’s my crazy story of how I won a real Oscar and all my dreams came true…so I thought. After reading my horrific tale of love and betrayal by the only one I thought I could truly trust – my Oscar – you might find yourself questioning whether a new life promised by the glitz and glam of the City of Angels is worth losing the perfect life God has given you right here, right now.
It was a snowy February night when I drifted off to LA LA land with visions of Oscars dancing in my head. Before I knew it I had slipped into a lucid state of dreaming and had landed smack dab in the middle of Tinseltown during the biggest celebration of film and movies of the year – the 87th Academy Awards. As I waltzed down the red carpet in my dazzling Dior blue chiffon dress, Stuart Weitzman shoes, and Harry Winston jewelry, I was bombarded with blinding flashes from paparazzi and reporters. “Who are you wearing!?!” they all screamed. It was truly an out-of-body experience, especially compared to the seemingly mundane, predictable life I am used to here in the suburbs of Nashville. The next thing I knew I was gliding up the grand staircase of Hollywood’s Dolby Theatre where my front row seat awaited me. Neil Patrick Harris opened the show with a spectacular number showcasing his Broadway-sized charm, sense of humor and impeccable acting and dancing skills. Then the awards presentation began.
As I nervously waited in my seat, a live shot of me appeared on the big screen, as I was being recognized as a nominee for my supporting role in my Katy Perry / Groundhog Day movie produced by Mabry Productions. If you’re one of the few who hasn’t seen my riveting performance, you can catch it HERE. The drum roll started as presenter, Bradley Cooper, began to announce, “…And the winner for BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS is……..Sarah Mabry!” In total shock, I quickly gathered myself, hugged John, and tried not to fall on my face as I made my way up the stairs to accept my very own Oscar. I recited my memorized speech with simple eloquence, being sure to thank everyone on my team. Everything was pretty much a blur from there. The after parties were still in full swing as the sun rose over the Hollywood hills, but it was time for me to get home to my family. I grabbed my Oscar and we jetted to LAX to catch the next flight out of town. It felt as though I struck gold!
The next thing I knew I awoke in the Grand Budapest Hotel. The hotel room looked oddly similar to my bedroom at home including my two 3-legged dogs, but one thing was completely different. My very own Oscar had come to life and softly greeted me with a, “Good morning, Mrs. Sarah. I take it you slept well,” as he handed me a warm, freshly brewed vanilla latte in bed. Ahhhhhh! It was apparent my Oscar had a heart of gold and was here to help me escape my real life for a better, happier one where someone takes care of me for once.
But he didn’t stop there. Like my own personal beautician, Oscar set up a spa in my bathroom and shaped my eyebrows, applied a mud mask and ran a warm bath for me He’s so dreamy! It was like I had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
Time had flown by! I suddenly realized I hadn’t taken my dogs out to use the restroom because of all the pampering. Oscar enthusiastically jump at the opportunity to take the dogs out for me so I wouldn’t get cold in the wintry mix outside. Still in my dreamy state, I strolled down to a quaint, cozy corner of the Budapest Hotel to read a book while sipping my latte. Could this really be my new life? As long as Oscar didn’t pinch and wake me up I told him he could live with me forever; I knew I was sitting on a gold mine.
My dream suddenly shifted back to my home. Our family adored our new cast, I mean, family member. John even got in on this action sequence. He had Oscar tuning up his prosthetic leg, trimming his nose hair, taking out the trash and even scrapping cat poop off our garage floor. Oscar’s such a natural with kids, too! I overheard them playing The Imitation Game called ‘Oscar Says,’ upstairs. The boys’ giggles echoed down the hall as they tried to mimic everything Simon, I mean, Oscar commanded. He also kindly helped my boys embrace their Boyhood by playing monster, camping in the back yard, and teaching them about sports.
Up to this point, my winning a real Oscar was proving to be the best thing that had ever happened to me; it was better than winning a gold medal in the Olympics. He did everything one would expect a perfect housewife to do. As John and I sat back, we felt we finally made it to a place of true inner peace and happiness. But like they say, all that glitters isn’t gold. Before long, things started to unravel pretty quickly. Oscar strangely broke character and began stealing the show by acting out scenes from all the best films of the year.
For instance, he didn’t show up one morning to cook the kids’ breakfast. As I was pouring milk for the boys’ cereal, I glanced out our kitchen bay window and almost got Whiplash from what I saw unfolding; it was Oscar perched outside looking like a Birdman or something.
Then, Oscar started chasing after our sweet amputee dog. He tackled Finley and started wrestling him, like he had suddenly taken on the character of a Foxcatcher.
A scene I will never forget came when I found that Oscar had been hoarding a bunch of boxes underground to play out a premeditated scenario that made me fear for my family’s safety. He was convinced he was an American Sniper and that the Boxtrolls were after him.
The final straw was when I found him stealing money from my kids’ piggy bank. As hard as it was to say, I had no choice but to admit that my trophy wife was nothing but a gold digger. At this point I could have really used a Big Hero Six to rescue me and take my Oscar away so I could live in peace with my family. At that exact moment John, Larson, and Austin came to my rescue. In the greatest fight scene ever, they took Oscar down in dramatic fashion with their plastic swords and toy guns. What does one do with a life size pure gold Oscar award?…what any smart family would. So we melted Oscar down, took molds of our teeth, and finally got those new grills we’ve been wanting.
What’s the whole point of this, you ask? The moral of the story is this…
Oscar had been brainwashed by an entire industry his whole life. Since the time he was born he was told he must fit a certain mold, look a certain way, perform his lonely, miserable job functions, and do exactly what every Oscar who came before him did. He grew up being taught that if he ever broke character and exposed his real emotions and authentic self, everyone would judge him. He’s no different than the millions of people out there who do not feel they can truly be themselves or pursue the jobs or hobbies their heart tells them to follow simply out of fear of what others will think. You’ll find people, maybe even yourself, playing the role some “casting director” (parent, spouse, boss) tells them they should play. So instead of aligning themselves with who God made them to be, instead of their soul coming to life on the “big screen” of existence, they stay stuck in their own never-ending horror film of fear, pain and resentment. All this does is rob the world of the super stardom they already have inside of them.
What I learned from this experience is that, as the Theory of Everything goes, the grass isn’t always gold-er, I mean greener, on the other side. Although the thought of winning my own personal Oscar sounded great at first, missing out on the limited hands-on, loving moments I have to spend with my family is just too precious to put into the hands of a fictitious golden child like Oscar. I am reminded that I have already won the greatest award a person can be given – the infinite love of my God and my family – and that’s all I truly need.