Here’s Betsy’s favorite picture from our various Christmas visits. This is a monkey bobble-head that she got me. It’s a running gag with us…every Christmas, she asks me what I want, and I always answer “Peace on earth, good will towards men, and a monkey.” So nearly every year, she gets me a monkey.
Here’s the kicker: my father informs us that I’m probably actually remembering my great-grandfather from when I was very young. He actually HAD monkeys…two of them, Spider Monkeys. He had a cage for them, and would get them out one at a time to let them crawl around on him, and swing around the house…according to my dad, he was the only one that could handle them. His hands were so callused that when they bit him he didn’t even feel it. I don’t consciously remember this, but I suppose it may be buried somewhere and I’ve just incorporated it into my subconscious. That, or monkeys are just cool.
