Short Imagined Monologues
Send your short imagined monologues to email@example.com.
An Overeager New Dad Celebrates the Birth of His Son.
Thanks for coming, everyone. Tonight is special. Tonight we welcome little Julian to the world, to OUR world, and celebrate his safe birth and the good health of him and his mother. Cheers, Veronica. Tonight is for you. For you! You did it, and I love you, honey. You really rocked the delivery.
Which, of course, our video posse captured in high-definition. We’ll watch the full video in the screening room right after we’ve eaten, but for now, I’d like to draw your attention to this series of paintings on the wall. These are video stills from the delivery itself, magnified 100 times and rendered in Conté by the artist Tonté, who lives in the apartment downstairs. She’ll be bringing up the rest of the series tomorrow. Please take special interest to the still nearest the kitchen. Veronica honey, that’s your perineum at 2000 pixels per inch! What do you think?
It’s okay. You can take the painting down, though that was my favorite. Though I wish you hadn’t used scissors. Oh well. I’ll explain to Tonté.
This evening was my idea, so I’ll be speaking for the family. Julian obviously couldn’t be here because he needs his sleep. But don’t worry, Veronica gave the nanny two full baby bottles, each with a custom top designed to be an exact replica of one of Veronica’s nipples. They’re fantastic. They were a baby present from our friends, the sculptors Lars and Lars von Larston. Who are here! Hi Lars, Hi Lars! Thanks for the nipples! They also made a polyurethane model of Julian’s crazy swollen skull, right after the baby was born.
Veronica, please sit down and stop pacing. Everything is fine.
Please now, raise your glasses. The short ones, with the stuff in them. Listen, we’re proud to share with you the gift of life. Each of you, our very best friends, receives in this glass a few teaspoons of colostrum. I collected it before the baby was born—mainly while you were sleeping, Veronica. Also, while Julian was struggling to latch in the hospital, I was there to catch the milk that would otherwise have been wasted as it ran down V’s sweaty abdomen. Don’t you worry; Julian received plenty. Also, the colostrum has been fermented, in the style of our Kyrgyz cousins, to bring all of you good health and prosperity.
What? Drink up!
Please. Go on!
Thank you. Where’s Sally going? I hope it’s not contagious. I’d like to tell you a little bit about the tapas I’ve laid out on the table. Tonight’s menu is all about Julian. Literally! The delicacies you’ve been snacking on have been provided by the guest of honor.
What’s that? He’s too young to cook? Nonsense! This baby is delicious! Ha ha ha!
Wait, Veronica, did something just break in the kitchen?
Oh well. As we all know, Randy and Johnette planted Hazel’s placenta under a tree. Silvey and Scooter dried Beagle’s placenta and had it encapsulated, so they could take it like a vitamin. I thought, what a brainstorm! Ha ha! Did you take your placenta today? Did you?
Well, I didn’t want to be derivative, but obviously I wanted to do something special. So I talked to Livvi Barker, the chef from Chez Mi, who came up with an inspired recipe. Placenta pâté! Now, obviously, she needed a placenta to work with, so I convinced another couple from our Bradley class to donate theirs for the sake of perfection. It took some real persuasion—and a little subterfuge—on my part, but guess who walked away from their delivery with the placenta? In any case, Livvi made the most of it. She really got the recipe right. Besides, Julian didn’t need it any more! Julian’s pâté was on the maroon plate with the butter crackers, but I see it’s all gone. Well, that’s too bad. I’d been hoping to try it myself. Not like we can just go order some more. Darn it.
Moving on to the cheese tray! Shhh. As many of you know, Julian’s nails grew pretty quickly. And we’ve had to trim them a few times already so the poor guy doesn’t keep scratching himself. Well. Veronica, never one to waste a thing, collected them all and one day she got hungry and just popped one in her mouth. That’s when she realized how delicious they would be if they were caramelized, and embedded in a block of Roquefort cheese. Many of you have been asking about the delicious accoutrement on the Roquefort; thank Julian’s little fingers for those!
Okay, okay, it’s true. Veronica had nothing to do with that one, either. All me! I should also tell you, so you don’t accuse me of holding back, that I did mix in some of the yellow goop that surrounds Julian’s right eye in the morning because he has a blocked duct. I think it’s kind of sweet!
Wait! Everyone’s leaving? Honey, is something burning? Okay, we can skip the screening. But listen, everyone. On your way out, don’t forget to pick up a gift bag. It contains a face mask made from Julian’s meconium, some of which came out of Veronica when her water broke.
Take a picture and send it to us! Your beautiful, youthful faces, smeared in his first gift to the world, will be thanks enough to me for coming. Go on, take one. Go on! Take one! Now!
SUGGESTED READSOpen Letters: An Open Letter to the Person Who Stole Our Diaper Bag
by Matthew Tobey (3/15/2010)
The Tell-Tale ’Gram
by Brent Katz and Sarah Beller (9/30/2015)
Vacations With Mother and Father
by David Connerley Nahm (3/3/2005)
RECENTLYCasting Call for Role of “Mother.”
by Kim Hedzik (5/6/2016)
List: Activities Easier Than Helping My Mother Download Skype to Speak to Her Newborn Grandson
by Julia Regan Markiewicz (5/6/2016)
Monologue: Whistler’s Mother Has Just About Had It
by Isabella Giovannini (5/6/2016)
POPULARI Would Rather Do Anything Else Than Grade Your Final Papers
by Robin Lee Mozer (5/2/2016)
List: Titles of Bach Chorales, as Translated By My Niece After One Semester of German
by Nolan Bonvouloir (4/15/2016)
How to Negotiate a Raise (If You’re a Woman)
by Maura Quint (4/15/2016)