Monster Goals

To the human living above me, I'd like to propose some changes.

It’s been a year since you issued me your set of rules, and in that year, I’ve complied. You’re still alive, aren’t you? Your dog is still alive, yes? And if you’d bothered to check under your bed once in awhile, you’d know that it’s the cleanest it’s ever been (turns out dust bunnies and ants and snack crumbs make a delicious meal, thanks for that suggestion, by the way). Overall, I think I’ve made a really great monster-under-the-bed, and I do hope you'd agree.

Now, I know one of your requests last year was that we do not see each other again. That one stung a bit, if I’m being honest. Had you ever considered that maybe you scared the "living bageezus” out of me that first night we encountered each other? Had you ever considered that maybe you were living above my home, rather than the other way around? Any anti-speciesism courses up there in the overworld? It appears not…

Which brings me back to the purpose of this letter. I overheard you talking about some human ritual you are going to be celebrating soon called “new year, new me,” and it sounds rather nice. I thought we could give it a try. New year, new us, if you will. So, I’d like to propose some ideas on how I think we could enhance our symbiotic relationship by implementing just a few minor changes over the next year. I’m totally open to any of your ideas, Human, but here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1.    One walk, once a week (at night, of course).

I know, for some reason, you’re a little nervous about seeing me, but I think exercise will do us good, don’t you? I could really use some fresh air, too. While dust is delicious, it's awful for my sinuses. And if we go at night, you really won’t be able to see much of me anyway. Plus, I’m a lot nicer (and more handsome) than you seem to think. If we walked together more, you’d know that. And I promise, I won’t bite.

2.    Less jumping on the bed.

You do remember I’m under here, right? That’s a hypothetical question. Of course, you know I’m under here. So, why do you insist on flopping onto the bed so much? It’s starting to make me think you want to hit me on the head, and that makes me kind of sad. Which makes me kind of angry. I have this horrible habit of over-eating when I’m angry, but lately there’s been less snack-droppings under here... Guess you’ve been keeping last year’s goal of eating less snacks before bed, huh? Great for you, awful for me. There’s significantly less ants now. Again, you do know I’m under here, right?

3.    Eat more snacks (preferably in bed).

I’ve done such a great job of not eating you or your dog, not that I would anyway. I’m not sure why humans are so adamant about the human-eating monster thing. Just because a few of us tend to do that, doesn’t mean we all do it. I actually fancy myself more of a vegetarian diet. (Though, I would not be opposed to helping you dispose of your beloved, chocolate-ear-flavored doggo once he reaches his final year, but we can discuss that when the time comes since I know that not eating him was at the top of your list of rules.)

To be clear: I am not asking for a large snack, but maybe a dish of those spicy red crunchy cracker things you used to eat all the time with Emily would be nice every now and then? Or, you know, whatever snacks you like the best. I’m not all that picky. Just hungry.

4.    Share the remote.

Have you considered that maybe not everyone in your room is interested in watching reruns of Lost? I mean, you’ve rewatched the entire show at least ten times, and I’m still confused. I’m more of a rom-com monster myself. It seemed like you were interested in those more when Emily was around, and I loved them. Especially the ones with that guy with the egg-shaped head and the weird voice. He was funny. I miss watching those. And I miss Emily. Where did she go, by the way? She made the whole place smell wonderful, like coconuts and fresh roses. Though, I got bonked on the head a lot more when she was around. That, I don’t miss.

Anyway, yes, this year, I think we should find something we both like to watch, especially since that’s all you seem to do anymore.

5.    Drink more water.

Who couldn't benefit from drinking more water? I know I'm getting pretty dehydrated down here. Perhaps, you could leave a bowl of water on the floor for me near the bed? It might even remind you to drink a little more, too, which I overheard you adding to your list. Sounds like a win-win to me.

6.    Wear socks in the house.

You asked me to return them, and I have. Several! So why don’t you wear them? Your feet are pretty much all I get a good view of, and the long nails are really starting to gross me out. I'm not keeping track or anything, but I think the last time you clipped them was when Emily gave you a pedicure. The humans who think monsters have long sharp claws clearly have never seen your feet. So, you might want to address that this year... Or, put on some socks. It's common courtesy.

Also, is there any way I could have a pair of my own? I mean, if you’re not going to wear them…

7.    Take more showers.

Are you trying to harm my nose? Another hypothetical, but Human, hear me out, because I say this to you as your friend: you smelled a lot better when Emily was around.

And just because she's gone doesn't mean my nose doesn't work! Would a shower-a-day really be so bad, and/or would it be possible to ask Emily what kind of soap she used?

Again, it's a common courtesy thing, but it's also possible it's one of the reasons Emily isn't around anymore, so you might consider scrubbing up a bit more (especially between the toes!).

Sorry, if that's a bit harsh, Human, but it's actually a great segue into my final goal for the new year.

8.    Get back with Emily.

Okay, so this one is mainly for you, but I think we can both agree that life was so much better when Emily was around. And I really think she could help us achieve a lot of these other goals (especially with bringing back the egg-shaped guy and those spicy crackers).

If she were back in your life, I think both of our lives would improve, which in turn, might benefit our relationship. I mean, you never wanted to hear from me again and for awhile, that was working for us. But now that I’ve experienced life with Emily, it’s gotten really hard to live with you now that she’s gone… So… If you could get back with her as soon as possible, that would be ideal for me us! I bet if you tell her about me, she’ll be so impressed by your anti-speciesism, she’ll jump right back into your arms (just don’t land on the bed)!

And hey, who knows? Maybe she’ll be so grateful that I got you two back together that she’d happily take me for those weekly evening walks and you wouldn’t have to worry about them. I don’t know, Human. It seems like a foolproof plan to me. As long as she doesn't see your feet and you remember to shower, I think this could really be our best year together yet. For all three of us. Don't you agree?

Anyways, it's something to consider. And I really hope you do. I know technically I'm going against your request to limit our contact by writing you this letter, but hopefully you can see that I'm only trying to help. Plus, there really isn’t a whole lot of excitement down here anymore, what with how depressed you’ve become. I hate to say it, but I really wish you were the kind of depressed person who ate themselves into oblivion so there’d be more food around. I am getting mighty hungry… I know not eating you was one of your big rules, Human, and I know I promised I wouldn’t bite. But without Emily around, things are looking a little bleak. And you know what they say up there… New year, new me.