Monkey shines, monkey rubs, monkey bartends

By Tiber

Well, there’s a monkey loose in our house. There’s one of those sentences you never expect to say.

If you’ve read the previous post, you know that people from the nearby animal park came by here because they’d had a monkey escape and someone thought she’d seen it scaling our wall.

No one in the house knew anything about it.

But then Mom had a martini left out for her (minus the olive) which Dad hadn’t made and Dad got a shoulder rub in his office that Mom hadn’t given. And it seemed pretty clear that a monkey was in here after all.

Some people would freak out so the animal park people leaped in to be reassuring.

But Dad just said, hell, if the monkey could make martinis and give shoulder rubs, he wanted him to move in full-time.

It turned out that Dad had made the martini for Mom. He’d just forgotten he’d started it when he heard noises in his office and had gone there to investigate. The shoulder rub? That may have been the monkey.

Dad said, hey, even without the martini-making, the monkey could stay on as a masseur.  The animal park people said it would probably be best if the monkey came back with them.

So we’re all on high alert.

I know that one night I’ll start having a dream about wearing a warm and comfy fur hat – but then it will suddenly pee on me and then I’ll wake up to find there’s a monkey relaxing and lounging on my head.


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