There's a Monster in My House

by Nathan Bright

No there’s not. Monsters don’t exist. What does exist are newborn babies. The five-week old variety in my home, to be precise. The similarities between her and a monster are staggering.

For one, she’s scary. My two-year old is freaked out by the primal screams echoing through the house at any given time. I’m scared of what she’s capable of, seeing how she already inflicted bloody pain on my wife during birth. It took a team of nurses to clean up the mess. Just horrible.

Her eating habits mirror that of a monster. My wife, bless her soul, is breastfeeding. Although I’ve never actually seen a real monster eat, I’m pretty sure it would be similar (that is, if while ingesting food parasite-style, a monster tends to fart a lot).

She was born with a lot of hair. Monsters have hair.

My baby/monster eats other things, too. She transgresses the boundaries of physical space and can actually devour my time. It literally took me 3 hours one day just to pee. This is a basic function I previously enjoyed with much frivolity. NO MORE! The monster has taken my time to pee. Just horrible. Monsters are gross. Babies are grosser. By analyzing these two statements one can conclude, with philosophically sound logic, that I have a super monster. Liquids, solids and gases of all color have made their way out of her. It’s not enough to simply change a dirty diaper, but she will literally spray venom at you like that little dinosaur from Jurassic Park. Now don’t tell anyone I told you this, but last week *I can’t believe I’m going to share this* she almost pooped in my mouth a little. I won’t offer all the details, but let’s just say I was inspecting a diaper rash with slack-jawed curiosity when the worst nearly happened. If that doesn’t convince you she’s a monster, I don’t know what will. Just horrible.

She can’t talk. Some monsters have speech problems as well.

Have you ever seen the X-Men Wolverine movie where Hugh Jackman’s love interest can persuade people to do things just by touching them? My baby/monster has that power. Now she’s here and our family is complete my wife and I have been talking about surgical options for birth control. Surgical. Options. Prior to this the closest a knife would’ve come to my “area” was, well… never. Ever. Never ever. To summarize, my baby is an X-Men mutant who has influenced us to harm ourselves.

Weak neck. The blob had no neck.

The saving grace here is the Gremlins. Gizmo was a monster. My baby doesn’t like bright light. She isn’t fond of getting wet. But she is exceptionally cute and sweet, much like that loveable mogwai. She doesn’t get carried around in a backpack the way Gizmo did, but another contraption – the Bjorn – is arguably identical. Even though she terrorizes us we love her anyway. Oh, and one last thing. Never feed her after… wait, we ALWAYS feed her after midnight. Ahh, so that’s where the ugly monster comes from!

In conclusion, if you have a cute monster at your house you need only follow one rule: don’t feed them after midnight. That, and don’t look too closely at diaper rash with your mouth open. Just horrible.

Nathan Bright is a 30-something stay-at-home dad who resides near St. Louis, MO. He is a husband to an amazing woman and father to a doubly amazing 2 year old little girl. His blessed home is scheduled to be even more blessed in March, as Nathan and his wife will welcome a second daughter to their family. When Nathan is not blogging for OurMilkMoney.com's The Daddy's Den, he writes and illustrates his own children's books. Available for purchase immediately is Maddi Patti and her Stay-at-Home-Daddy.