Monkey

Moonie has a new best friend: the monkey happily hanging by ribbons in the window of a local toy store. They giggle and chat through the glass with identical permanent smiles.

(“What’s your monkey friend’s name?” I asked Moonie.
“Mr. Monkey!” he exclaimed.
“Mr. Monkey is my father!” said his little friend. “Call me Monkey.”
“OK, Monkey!” said Moonie.
So there we have it.)

monkey

It turns out Monkey likes telling jokes as much as Moonie.

Monkey: “What do you call a monkey that sells potato chips?”
Moonie: “What?”
Monkey: “A chipmunk!”
Moonie: (hysterical laughter)

Monkey: “What do you call a baby monkey?”
Moonie: “What?”
Monkey: “A chimp off the old block!”
Moonie: (hysterical laughter)

Me: “Moonie, why don’t you tell Monkey your favorite monkey joke?”
Moonie: “Oh yeah! Hey Monkey, how do monkeys get down the stairs?”
Monkey: “How?”
Moonie: “They slide down the banana-ster!” (laughs hysterically)
Monkey: “I don’t get it.”
Me: (sigh)

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