Is that a monkey in your pocket or-no, seriously, is that a monkey in your pocket?

By Tiber 

As I’ve said before, Dad’s butler, Brunty, often forgets who’s really at the door so he’ll just announce anybody.

“Orville Wright has just arrived for you, sir.”

Last night, we thought Brunty had lost it even more when he located Dad and told him that this time, “the monkey people” had shown up. Oddly enough, in this case, he was right.

There’s an animal park not too far from here and one of their monkeys has gone missing. Someone on the street thought she’d seen a monkey scaling one of our walls so we were asked if anyone in the family had found him.

No. No monkeys here.

The animal park people were very nice and Mom joked, “unless a monkey left that martini out on the table for me a few minutes ago. My husband usually doesn’t forget the olive!”

Dad laughed along with everyone else until he suddenly braked and looked sort of perturbed.

“I never made you a martini, Gwen. I’ve been in my office enjoying the shoulder rub you were giving me.”

Uh-oh.

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