Howardism Musings from my Awakening Dementia
My collected thoughts flamed by hubris
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Each night, my daughter asks me to tell her a story. She often starts the story giving me the characters and some of the plot, but I have to do the rest. She once asked for a story about a monster, and this was the story that I came up with.

I continue to tell this story to her to counteract all of the "Happy Ever After" stories that seem to be the literary diet of children.

The Monster and the Snowman

Once upon a time, there was a monster. Yes, he was big. Yes, he was ugly. Yes, he was smelling. But despite all of these wonderful qualities, he was also very lonely. He just wanted to talk to someone without them screaming and running away.

"Is that too much to ask!" he yelled at the dark clouds that were starting to form and cold winter wind that started to pick up.

The next morning the monster woke up to find a huge layer of snow on top of everything. This picked up his spirits as he jumped around and played in the snow. And nothing will lift your spirits as watching a horrible monster gleefully jumping in snow drifts.

He started to push some snow which turned into a little ball. The ball got bigger as he continued to push it. Once the ball was really large he made another one and put it on top of the other. Once the third ball was on top, he grabbed a hat and a carrot from his cellar and made himself a friend.

"Hi friend!" the monster said to the snowman.

"Why don't you answer me? Is it because I didn't call by your name and now you're offended? I don't think that is anything to get all huffy about, but I will call you by your name… that is, if I knew your name." The monster sat down and asked, "So what is your name?"

The snowman didn't say anything.

"Is this a guessing game? I have to guess your name?" The monster put his hairy head between his claws to help him think. "Is it Rufford? I've always liked that name."

But the snowman didn't say anything.

"Of course it wouldn't be that. I must be a cold name, you your mainly water… Of course, so am I or so I've read. Anyway, Is it Icicle?"

But the snowman didn't say anything.

"How about Jack? As in Jack Frostman! You know, I once new a guy named Jack, but he just loved to howl at the moo…"

But the snowman didn't say a thing.

At this point, the monster was tired and frustrated, and a bit cold on account of keeping his rump in the snow as he stewed and thought. So, he decided to think some more inside his dark cave.

While he was there, he came up with a number of great ones, and when the weather warmed up a bit and he was sure that one of them had to be the answer, he came out to tell his new friend.

"Is it…" but the snowman was no where to be found. "But I left him right here where this pile of melted snow is…" He searched and searched and finally came to the conclusion that his snow friend got tired of waiting for him, and went off to find a new friend that perhaps already knew his name.

And the monster went back to being lonely.

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