As the new year approaches, I cannot help but think of a fateful New Year’s Eve past, spent by the fireplace with my pet monkey, Chip Dip. For the longest time, we just sat quietly in our respective arm chairs, he in his smoking jacket and I in my robe, privately reflecting on the past, present and future, the fire crackling all the while.
“Tell me Chip Dip,” I said, finally breaking the silence, “do you have any goals for the new year?”
The monkey turned his head, glancing at me before returning his gaze to the dancing flames as he seemingly soaked in my question. Another moment passed before Chip Dip finally got up, strolled over to the fireplace and closed the flue.
“CHIP DIP!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted, “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO KEEP THAT OPEN!!!”
I chased Chip Dip around the living room for 45 minutes until it finally filled with smoke and I passed out.
I awoke the next morning in a hospital bed. I moved my IV and pulled the curtain aside. There was Chip Dip, laying in the bed next to me.
“Well Chip Dip,” I said, “I hope you learned a valuable lesson from all of this.”
Chip Dip nonchalantly rolled his head to the side and looked at me. He then got up and unhooked my IV.
“CHIP DIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled.
It was the worst New Years ever.