Growing up we learn to associate monsters with any manifestation of fear. The concept is universal and often transcends experience. The noises from my closet, the faceless shadows in the corner of my room, and the cold air on the back of my neck as I scramble to climb the basement stairs in the dark.
For me the concept of monster had another unexpected association. Perhaps as a means to undermine the entire construct of the mythical monster, my Mom invented the “Mommy Monster” game. Essentially an advanced game of “I’m gonna getcha” my dear Mom would muster her best monster growl and elicit squeals of delight from her little boy. The game was absurdly enchanting.
I realize it’s unlikely that I have any direct memories of this game as I was far too young when my mom played it with me. Perhaps my memory was prompted from watching her play it years later with my younger sister but somehow I have a sense of the game. A warm extra-perceptual sensation that defies logic and can only be the remnants of memories logged dutifully by rapidly developing consciousness. This game is as much a part of my social DNA as the color of my eyes are part of my actual genetic makeup.
Ultimately, it’s these intangible bonding moments that strengthen the link between Mother and child years after the umbilical cord has been cut. In many ways these impressions made in the doughy primordial brain of a developing child supplant that functional connection from our brief, gestational life and come to define our future lives.
Happy Mother’s Day Mommy Monster, thank you for having me.
Mannino Acid 