This story was originally posted on June 23, 2017. I like writing about monsters that are like us except for a few things that are very different. The fun is deciding what will be different and what will be the same.
It was monster Papa’s turn to make dinner. He loved to make dinner. It required thought and creativity, and it was very relaxing. If only all chores were this great.
“What’s for dinner, Dad?” little monster asked.
“Candle wax and string,” monster Papa said.
Little monster cheered. He sat down on the stool at the counter. “Can I watch?”
Monster Papa smiled. “Of course you can.” He pulled out a large tin can and started throwing in the ingredients. String, candle wax, toenails…”
“Why toenails?” little monster asked.
“So that you’re always on your toes. What’s that over there?” Monster Papa looked to the left. Little monster turned to look and monster Papa poured a bag of candy into the can.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough. Little monster leaned forward to look into the pan. “What was that?”
“What was what?” monster Papa asked.
“What did you add to dinner?”
Monster Papa started squeezing lemons into the mix. “Lemons, so that you’re not afraid to move forward when things go sour.”
“No, before that,” little monster said. “What was it? What was in the bag?” Little monster kneeled up on his chair and tried to lean over the counter and look into the tin can.
“It’s a surprise,” monster Papa said.
“It’s not something gross is it?” little monster asked.
“Of course not,” monster Papa said. “Well maybe a little.”
“Tell me, tell me, tell me, please?” little monster clasped his paws together under his chin. “Please, please, please.”
“Stop using your best manners, or I’ll tell your mother,” monster Papa said.
Little monster made a scary face. “What did you put into dinner?”
“Fine,” monster Papa said. “I’ll tell you. It was hot peppers, so that you’ll have biting wit.”
“You just put that in,” little monster said.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. Listen closely, because I’ll only say this once. It was…” monster Papa mumbled the last word.
“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear it,” little monster said.
“Oh look, the peppers are working already, and you haven’t eaten them yet. That’s amazing.” Monster Papa covered the tin can with foil. “Time to put this in the oven.”
“If you tell me I’ll shred the newspapers into tiny pieces and scatter them all over the living room,” little monster said.
“That would be nice,” monster Papa said. “We could turn on the fan and pretend it’s a blizzard.”
“So will you tell me?”
Monster Papa sighed. “Fine. I added candy.”
Little monster scowled. “Ewwww. Why?”
“So that you grow up sweet,” monster Papa said.
“I don’t want to be sweet.” Little monster stomped his feet. “Who wants to be sweet?”
“It will help you appreciate the scary moments,” monster Papa said. “It’s important to have balance. Besides, it’s sweet to say I love you, and I say that all the time. It’s okay to be sweet sometimes.”
“Fine,” little monster said. “But I’m not eating it. Not if there’s candy inside.”
“Tell you what. Eat three pieces of candy, and you can pick the rest out.” Monster Papa set time on the oven.
“You can have them, Papa,” little monster said.
Monster Papa made a face. “I guess it’s good for me, right? Well, go tell Mama that our casserole surprise will be ready soon.”
“Okay. I love you, Papa,” little monster said.
“I love you too, my little monster.”