Once upon a time there was a nice family that lived in a nice home in a nice neighborhood in a nice town.
They rarely quarreled, seldom had tiffs, sometimes had disagreements, and never had fights. But whenever they had any of these, they didn't last long because they had a big rug.
Under the rug lived an ugly monster whose job it was to eat anything that was swept there. At night it would emerge, sit in a dark corner, and digest whatever the nice family had pushed his way so that the family would not have any conflicts. The monster, despite its appearance, was highly intelligent, and understood that it must stay out of the light and must not be seen.
As with any family, there were slights, and oversights, and there was sometimes neglect and lack of consideration of one toward another in the nice family. But whenever this happened, it didn't last long because they had a big rug.
And, by the next day, everything was nice again.
They were not selfish people, but occasionally it was hard to tell whether some family member was just not too interested in what the other was doing, or being a little too egocentric, or nursing some old slight. But these feelings never surfaced to become a confrontation because they had a big rug.
And, by the next day, everything was nice again.
There were times when one person in the nice family would ask another what interesting things were happening, and took pleasure in hearing and listening. The speaker enjoyed the telling as well, but all too often did not return the courtesy by reciprocating. And so the monster had something to feed on. The person that had done the asking became annoyed, eventually asked less and less often, and so the monster had yet more to eat.
And, over time, everything remained nice.
Every so often, someone in the nice family would do or say something unusual and spontaneous. It would be a nice change of pace, and the others would enjoy it. But it wouldn't last and soon everyone returned to the comfort of predictability.
And, over time, everything remained nice.
The nice family knew well how to avoid the touchy subjects, those that might become annoying or even angering one or the other of them. They were quite sensitive toward the other's feelings, and so preserved their prized nice aura. But the unspoken didn't really disappear, and so the monster grew a little fatter again.
And, over time, everything remained nice.
As in all, even nice families, there were tensions. One might receive more attention at times, another might feel neglected in conversation, and so perceptions of favoritism arose occasionally. But everyone understood that to talk about these resentments would be disturbing to their nice relationships, and so they chose not to do that. And so the monster had more to feast upon.
And, over time, everything remained nice.
The monster knew what its job was, and because it had been trained to be responsible and nice, it performed its job uncomplainingly. Yes, there were times when it almost became resentful, but then, being a wise monster, it understood from its own experience what effect this resentment would have on it, and quickly let it pass.
Over time the monster grew and then grew some more, but the family bought a bigger rug, and it was nice and comfortable once again.
One day a visitor came to dinner, and noticed the bulges in the rug. As he bent down to see what was causing them, the family shouted in unison:
No! No!! Don't lift that rug!!!
Then they all sat down for a nice dinner.
Peter E. Schmidt