by Richard
In the classic tale of suspense and wishing gone wrong, “The Monkey’s Paw” by W.W. Jacobs, a man comes into the possession of a magical monkey’s paw on which he can make wishes. Unfortunately, these wishes, while correct, always come with an unexpected price. Sort of like dealing with the IRS without a lawyer. Anyway, Christmas always reminds me that I had my own version of the monkey’s paw and it involved a glowing, green T. Rex skeleton.
Tyrannosaurus Rex was, of course, the fiercest apex predator of the Cretaceous Era and lived between 68 and 65 million years ago. It’s also just about the coolest dinosaur ever to most five or six year old little dudes. I know this from experience.
When I was a very little dude, say around five or six (what are the odds, yeah?), there was nothing I loved better than dinosaurs. Mom? Nope. Not unless she was bringing more dinosaurs. Dad? Not even close. Unless those were dinosaurs he was holding behind his back. Basically it was all dinosaurs all the time. I slept on dinosaur sheets and had dinosaur undies. I knew them all. (of course, over time I did forget them to make room for more important stuff [names of beer]. I was shocked, though, to discover how quickly it all came back when my own little dudes began to be obsessed by dinosaurs.) And that was when I found the ultimate present.
A six-foot green skeleton of the mighty tyrant lizard, Tyrannosaurus Rex that actually glowed in the dark.
I needed that skeleton the same way a helmet diver needs some air pumped down that long, long hose. I needed it like I needed water to drink and Hostess Ho Hos to eat. It was not just something I wanted. It was something I had to have or my life as I knew it was over. So, yeah, just about typical for a little dude that age.
My parents, being good parents, said there was no way we could have that large a toy in the house. No dinosaur skeleton for Christmas for you. I was crushed. My parents, being good parents, had already been to far too many stores and fought through far too many people and bought the magnificent thing. I don’t know how they managed to hide their smiles when I was throwing my tantrum.
Right around then I was in the last stages of a bad habit. I would wake up in the middle of the night, decide I was lonely and then walk the hall to my parents’ room and sleep in the floor there. This will be important later.
While I didn’t get over the devastating loss, I did manage to soldier on. Until, that is, it was Christmas Eve. We all went to sleep that night. My sister and I were the last to quiet down and we fell asleep with visions of Santa slipping through the heating grate. (Hey, we didn’t have a fire place.) That was when my parents set up the glow-in-the-dark, green T. Rex skeleton. Right next to the tree. Right near the hallway that connected the kid’s side of the house to the parent’s side of the house.
Christmas Eve, I woke up and felt lonely. Rubbing my eyes, still three-quarters asleep, I stumbled down the hallway. And straight into a glowing, green skeletal nightmare from the past bent on eating my tender young flesh. I was later told by my parents that they found me screaming and screaming and screaming, huddled in the far corner of the living room, scared out of my pajama bottoms. Well, not literally, but I think you understand what I’m talking about.
It took them about a half hour to calm me down and explain that the skeleton was just a gift. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t gnaw me up, getting bits of flesh caught between its teeth and then picking at the flesh with splintered Richard-bone toothpicks. I had a vivid imagination.
Eventually, they managed to get me back to bed and asleep. Very, very lightly. Just in case the skeleton really was real. The next morning, I ran out of my room and straight to the tree, completely ignoring the horrible T. Rex skeleton. My parents tried to get me to play with it, but I wouldn’t even look in that direction.
So, yeah. Monkey’s Paw.
Enjoy all the gift giving this year. Not that I want to jinx you or anything.
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