I've been trying for the past two weeks or so to open a dialog with my carpet monster. I am perfectly happy to have a carpet monster and I am open to trying to understand its needs and the unique contributions it makes to my little world, but we seem to lack an acceptable level of shared understanding, our lives being so different and all. I come and go as I please, with shoes and without, and am not above spilling, scuffing, scraping and grinding unsavory things into my carpet monster with complete indifference. It, on the other hand, must stay where I put it, suffer a multitude of indignities without complaint because it has no voice and, let's face it, its view of the world never changes. Still, you'd think we could reach a middle ground since we share the same space and air and love of modelling, but no. My carpet monster delights in catching parts I drop from my bench before throwing them a distance and direction that violate the common laws of physics. The number of intimate hours I've spent on my belly, cheek to cheek with my carpet monster, flashlight in hand, as it leads me on a merry and fruitless chase would astound the world. In all fairness, sometimes it gives up before I do and lets me win, but lately the parts disappear forever into its fibrous innards, leaving no trace, not even telltale plastic pellets in its carpet monster poop. So what is it doing? Is it trying to accumulate enough bits and pieces to build a kit of its own? Lord knows, I've dropped enough parts and spilled enough glue and paint that it could, but I think there is something more nefarious afoot here. I think it has come to realize that it has a degree of power over me because it knows the secrets of where these bits are but I never will; that it knows it can live in my age-addled brain rent free for all my days simply because we both know that my model, although finished, is not complete; that it is playing some sort of carpet monster chess without telling me the rules. Whatever the reason, it seems to be winning. But I know something my carpet monster doesn't: Nothing lasts forever. It can be replaced with something more compliant and cooperative and find itself in a dumpster somewhere in the rain, living with flies and rats and such. Ha! How would you like that, Mr Carpet Monster?? Would you like that? Being all soggy and gross and wadded up in a place that has never even heard of a vacuum cleaner?? I like to think I am bigger than that but you should know, I've already met a better looking, more model friendly fake wood floor and we're talking about maybe making a future together but I'd rather not go there if we don't have to. I like you Mr Carpet Monster; you keep my feet warm and I can scrunch you with my toes. Just give me my parts back and maybe we can talk about it.