8/14/14, A Special Celebration!

“Guess what today is, Mom!” The five-year-old skips into his room naked as a jay bird.

“What is today?”

He plops himself down on Mommy’s lap. “It’s my penis’s birthday!”

“It is?” Mommy laughs.

“Yep. He’s twelve today!”

“Twelve?! Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure he showed up here around the same time you did.”

The monkey giggles. “Yeah. But he’s twelve. Let’s sing to him! . . .  Happy birthday to you. . . Happy birthday to you . . .”

“Happy birthday, dear Penis . . . ” Mommy sings, “Happy Birthday to you! Okay. Can we go have breakfast now?”

Image courtesy of auralmoon.com

Image courtesy of auralmoon.com

7/31/14, Point of Order



“Can robots wear hats?” The five year old is struggling with his Lego minifigure. His frown deepens.

“Of course they can, sweetie.”

“Yeah. They can wear hats. But they can’t be dirty. Robots can only wear clean hats.” He declares and looks up at me for confirmation.

“That’s right. No dirty hats for robots.”

I’m glad we got that settled.

Image courtesy of http://www.coincommunity.com/forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=131345

Image courtesy of http://www.coincommunity.com/forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=131345


5/27/14, Geronimo!

“What’s that?”

Every loose blanket and pillow in the house has been heaped on the floor of the seven-year-old’s room.

“That’ s a Geronimo Pile,” the monkey shrugs.

“What’s a ‘Geronimo Pile’?”

“Simple. I’ll show you.”

He climbs up onto his bed and begins jumping.

“Oh, honey. Don’t-”

It’s too late. The monkey leaps high into the air, pulls his arms and legs into a cannonball and yells, “GERONIMO!!”

There’s a muffled thump as a tushy hits the floor through the pile. He springs up grinning.

“See. That’s a Geronimo Pile. You wanna try it?”

Yeah. I kind of do.


Image courtesy of www.wanderlust.co.uk

Image courtesy of www.wanderlust.co.uk

5/20/14, Overheard in the Forest

“I want a catcher’s helmet but my mom won’t get me one,” says a six-year-old neighbor monkey.

“I can help you get that helmet,” declares the seven-year-old.

“You can?”

“Yep. Here’s what you gotta do.” The boys stop walking. “Go ask your mom for the helmet very nicely. Then make your cutest face like this . . .”

The monkey then makes puppy eyes and pout lips.

“That will work?”


Image courtesy of imgarcade.com

Image courtesy of imgarcade.com

3/19/14, What’s up, Bro?

“Say good-bye, honey.  It’s time to go home.”

“BYE! Bye, Eamon! Bye!” The four-year-old waves frantically at the kids still on the playground then grabs Mommy’s hand.

“Did you have fun at school today?”

“Didya know Eamon calls me ‘Bro’?” His little voice makes every word adorable.

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.  He says, ‘What’s up, Bro.’”

“He does?” Mommy tries not to giggle as he contemplates this odd salutation.

“I think that means we’re buddies.” He grins widely.

“Yep.” Just too cute. Mom can’t take it.

“Mommy! Stop! I hate kisses!”

Image courtesy of www.ebay.com

Image courtesy of www.ebay.com






3/4/14, Armor Class

“Hey, Dad! What’s my armor class now?”

The seven-year-old pops back up from behind the couch. There is a pair of underwear on his head. He’s holding a throw pillow, and there are socks on his hands.

“Well, let’s see. Helmet is -2, shield is -3, and I’ll give you -1 for the hand protection. So how much is that?”

The junior Dungeons and Dragons warrior screws up his face to think, which makes the underwear on his head all the more awesome. “Negative 6?”

“Yep. If you had a weapon that might help.”

The underwear helmet nods and searches the floor for a toilet paper roll or some other suitable shiv.

The four-year-old seizes the opportunity. “Dad, didya know I’m in a big armor class?”

“You are?”

“Yeah because I defeated all the challenges of Little Armor Class.”

Image courtesy of www.hahastop.com

Image courtesy of www.hahastop.com

2/6/14, The Morning News

Morning in the forest and the littlest monkey unleashes his deep thoughts for the day.

“My crystal has powers. It can see in the dark!” He holds up a tiny Lego like evidence.

“Oh, yeah?” Mommy tickles his belly button before pulling a shirt on his head.

“I don’t have a tummy.”

“You don’t.” Left sock. Right sock.

“Nope. It belongs to my stomach. It hides over here.”


“Do you know how I ride in the car?”

“Nope.” Mommy snaps his tiny Levis closed.

“On my head.”

“Okay, Mr. Imagination! Let’s go downstairs for breakfast.”

“That’s not my name!” he growls with a terrible glint in his eye. “My name is Death of Doom!” 

“Okay, Death of Doom. Let’s go.”

Still growling like a cartoon lizard, “No. My name is Death of DOOMS!. Yeah, that’s a better name.”


Image courtesy of www.southdacola.com

Image courtesy of www.southdacola.com

2/5/14, Lord of the Wise

“So, Frankie, if you were Frodo, would you trust Strider if you just met him at the Prancing Pony? Would you follow him into the wild?”

“Hmmm… ”  He narrows his eyes and grabs his chin then says,  “First I would wrestle him to see if he would be any help defeating orcs.”

Mommy laughs. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Then I’d ask him some questions.”

Thinking Monkey

1/16/14, Gorillas in My Midst

How a boy says good morning: “Hey, mom? When can I play video games?”

How a boy eats breakfast: “Get back here, Toast!  I will defeat you! HA! HA! HA!” *Crunch* *Crunch*

How a boy eats lunch: Eat sandwich meat. Break cheese into tiny pieces and scatter. Take one bite of bread and deposit carcass into lunch box. Throw apples into trash.

How a boy eats dinner: “Back off rice! Get out of my beans!” Fork bashes plate. *Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!*

How a boy brushes he teeth: “Mom, did you know that toothpaste is poison? It will turn me into a slimy frog!”

How a boy says good-night: “It gives me nightmares when you don’t let me watch Star Wars…”

Conclusion: Dian Fossey could have studied apes at home!

Image courtesy of www.nationalgeographic.com

Image courtesy of www.nationalgeographic.com

1/15/14, Bananas!

“Mine’s bigger!”

“No! Mine’s bigger!”

“Nu-uh. See? Mine’s longer!”

“Yeah, but mine’s fatter!”

Really, boys? At 8 am? Before coffee? In the kitchen? Mom slaps the paring knife on the cutting board. Does she even look? “Listen, guys, what the heck are you…”

The monkeys are carefully assessing the two halves of a banana she’d given them for breakfast. Pressed together over the counter, the two halves are measured and weighed until the oldest finally declares, “See! Mine’s bigger.”

“Hey!” his brother whines. “No fair! Mo-om! Frankie’s got a bigger banana than me!”

Then they notice their mother staring at them in mid-sentence. She shakes her head at them both and goes back to chopping apples.

Image courtesy of sipseystreetirregulars.blogspot.com

Image courtesy of sipseystreetirregulars.blogspot.com