I don't want to brag, but while you were sitting, alone at your desk, talking with adults, alone, and occasionally surfing online....alone. I had a morning with our 6 year old that you could only dream of. It went like this...
"Mooooom! Do you want to play the monkey game with me?"
"You bet, Buddy." I had no idea what that meant.
"Okay. You are the kid and you want to buy a monkey and I am the monkey and you have to go to the store to buy me. Your room is the store and my room is your house."
"Okay." I started to head upstairs to play but was stopped at the landing.
"But first you have to ask your mom."
"Are you my mom?" I asked him looking up from the 9th step.
"Yes."
"Okay. Mom, I really want a monkey. Can I buy one?"
"No."
Wow. I tried to hide my shock and joy. Short game.
"Bummer," I said heading down the stairs.
"No, Moooooooom," he half laughed at my stupidity. "You have to keep asking for the monkey."
"Oh," I said returning to the 9th step. "Please?"
"A monkey is a lot of responsibility," said my 'mom'.
"But I really want one. I am responsible and will take good care of it. Puhleeease...."
"Well, they also cost a lot of money. And their food costs money."
I was trying to anticipate the length of this game...I was not sure at this point if I was gonna get the monkey or not.
"Oh. Well how can I get money?" I probably should've just said that I was broke and it wasn't gonna work out. I wanted to get off the stairs.
"Well," said my prepubescent male mom, "you can do jobs to earn money for the food."
"Okay." Guess I'm getting a monkey.
"But, the monkey is $1000.00"
Or not.
"Well, how can I ever get a thousand dollars?! I'm only..."
"8. You are 8. And your name is Celia."
"I'm only 8."
"Well, lucky for you there is a race starting and the winner gets $1000."
"How lucky! That is just the money that I need for my monkey."
I then performed a series of drills and sprints up and down the hallway with myself, and SPOILER ALERT, won the money.
PHASE II
"Now that you have your money, you can go into the pet store---which is your room, remember?"
"Yup."
I entered the pet store and the pet store owner, who bore a striking resemblance to my mother, showed me where the monkeys were kept. They were jumping on our bed. (The part of the monkeys--all 3---will be played by the store owner)
As they began jumping up and down the pet owner introduced each one.
"This is Bodjo. He is free, but he is naughty."
As if on cue, Bodjo began acting very naughty.
"This is Singah. She is free, but also very naughty."
Bodjo was loud and threw poop at you, Singa tried to rip your face off.
And then in the corner, a very sweet monkey named Jungle Boy came crawling out, climbed on me, and gave me a hug.
"I'll take this one," I shouted to the pet owner whom had mysteriously disappeared.
"It's a thousand dollars!" Shouted a voice from around the corner.
Wait, where was my monkey?
"I have exactly a thousand dollars!" I shouted back and handed over my winnings.
I took my monkey home and fed him, and played with him, until it was time to take him to the park---the hallway. By now, this 8 year old monkey owner needed coffee...especially if we were going to the park....and as we stepped out of the pretend upstairs world, she noticed the time.
"Jungle Boy," said Celia, "I need to vacuum, dust and do some laundry. Would you like to help me?"
He ee-ee-eeeed "yes," and eagerly followed me downstairs, but sitting on the counter was the iPad. And thus, "poof!" the demise of Jungle Boy.
