Monsters
A father runs into his son’s room and flips on the light.
Father: “I heard you screaming. What’s wrong?”
Son: “There’s a monster in my closet, and he’s trying to kill me.”
Father: “Son, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Son: “There isn’t?”
Father: “No. We are all going to die someday.”
Son: “We are?”
Father: “Yes. Whether it be by the hand of the monster in your closet or the steady decay of your body as life takes its toll.”
Son: “What’s the difference between being killed by a monster and being killed by life?”
Father: “Death by monster is quicker.”
Son: “What’s the point of living?”
Father: “Ice cream.”
Son: “Okay.”
The father leaves. After he closes the door a monster walks out of the boy’s closet holding a pint of ice cream.
