hey hey she’s the monkey
Long-time readers of this humble blog will realize that I haven’t written about The Monkey in a long time. I’d tell her it’s because she’s not cute anymore. (Since she follows me on Twitter, she might find this post and that comment. If she does, I’ll get texts threatening to kick my butt.)
But in reality, she is still around, and still being awesome.
I think I stopped blogging about her because she’s getting older. She’s a teenager. She’s in… high school.
Hang on. I’m going to need a moment.
Now that she’s older, her stories are her stories. You know? It’s not really my place to share them.
So now I am going to tell you a story about her.
I’m an enigma.
First things first, did you guys know that teen girls these days are unable to get ready for school dances on their own? They apparently must gather in one house and celebrate the act of putting on clothing in a cloud of squeals, Justin Bieber music and hair spray.
As opposed to teen boys, who will forever get ready for school dances by selecting their least smelly shirt.
A few weeks back, The Monkey was hosting one of these emerging estrogen soirees. There was another one going on a few miles down the road. The Monkey heard that the organizers of the other party had left out one quiet girl that they usually hang out with.
The Monkey didn’t like that. And despite not knowing the quiet girl well, The Monkey called her at home and invited her to come join her and her friends.
I love that.
And I’d never have known, but the quiet girl’s mom met up with The Monkey and thanked her and told her how impressed she is with her.
We all are.
It reminds me of her infamous 13th birthday party (where I served as doorman.) She was very careful to not leave anybody in her class out. The unpopular. The downright mean. They were all invited. It was very cool of her.
She’s a really, really good kid.
Now The Monkey IS spoiled. She’d be the first to admit it. And we’d all nod.
But, as my sister explained to her, “There is a big difference between being spoiled and being a spoiled brat. We’ll keep spoiling you. But if you ever act like a brat, that’s all over.”
The Monkey gets it.
I don’t know if we did anything to make her that way, but I am more than willing to take credit for anything good.
Somehow we make little chicks in this family who are strong and sweet and smart and resilient and kind.
It’s pretty great.