more tales of the golden monkey

The other evening I was hanging out with my folks, The Monkey and her dad. The conversation turned to a play The Monkey was in a couple of weeks ago. And then it turned to the Thriller Dance they performed in it. (I talked to the director the other day and she told me, “Yeah, the dance was the kids’ idea. Not gonna lie.”)

Despite the fact that it was almost 11, and we grown ups were tired, she was completely wired. So at the first mention of the dance, her little peepers lit up. “Oh!”

She made her way to the middle of the kitchen. And despite there being nothing and nobody near her, she spread her arms to make sure she had room.

And then she started doing the dance. But not just the dance. She also performed the different variations that each actor performed.

She, of course, narrated the whole event.

And then she plucked out a wedgie.

Since she still felt like dancing, she started doing the Carlton Dance from Fresh Prince.

And then she really went to work on a wedgie removal project. I expected her to ask for a miner’s helmet.

At this point I should mention that early on in her dance performance, I sneakily grabbed my Flip Cam and held it at waist level and filmed the whole thing.

After a bit more general dancing, she dropped her pajama pants suddenly and showed us that she was wearing her bathing suit bottoms underneath. (I… don’t know why either.) And she explained that they were the cause of the WFH. (Wedgies from hell.)

As I was shaking my head at her, I stopped recording. She noticed.

“What??? Did you just tape that?”

“Uhm… No?”

“You did! Lemme see.”

She ran over to me. I held it down for her to see and hit play. She watched 5 seconds, and as I was starting to say, “I won’t show it to anyone, silly” she quickly hit “delete” twice and erased the entire thing.

Then she “Mwhahahahahaha”d and danced out the door, singing a song she had just written. The only lyrics were:

“I caught two fish at the Nunavut Legion.
I caught two fish at the Nunavut Leeeeegion.”

I could still hear her singing halfway up the driveway.


I decided to go hang out the other afternoon for an hour with my relatives at the pool. They were playing with a “splash ball.” Basically a foam ball with a cloth covering. It absorbs water and you chuck it at each other.

Anyway, the ball went flying and fell in a gap between the fence and the garage. The Monkey was going to climb for it, but everyone told her she’d get hurt. I offered to walk around the garage and get it for her. When I got there, I realized it was in a weird spot. With The Monkey hanging out through an opening in the fence, I started climbing over and then under things. Finally, with her directions, I got to the ball. I nicely passed it up to her and began the journey of climbing out.

So she held the ball over my head and squeezed it and soaked me.

5 thoughts on “more tales of the golden monkey

  1. She should get together and jam with my 5-year-old nephew whose new favorite song is his own composition that goes, “MAN ON A LOG! MAN ON A LOG!” He yells it really loud, and then points to someone else in the room, and that person is supposed to yell it back.

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