The monkey is dead. Long live the monkey

Sad news has come to pass on the house of Millie. Shortly after my last post I was summoned to Millie's room by the sound of her hacking cough.

Mim had been suffering from the latest nursery cold, so I'd grown accustomed to the snuffles and coughs. This, however, sounded somewhat more vigorous. I was right. By the time I had reached the top of the stairs my little bird had coughed so hard she'd thrown up... all over her beloved monkey.

Now Monkey, as you know, has become the love of Millie's life. She shouts for him obsessively in the style of a miniature Johnny Vegas. But monkey is of the microvable heat-up kind, the kind that cannot be put in the washing machine. OH GOD!

So... having chased an inconsolable, puke-smeared Mim around her room by night light, I finally managed get her cleaned up, her bed changed, and get her back off to sleep. Then the fun began.

I had managed to extract monkey by stealth and had now commenced the pain-staking operation of picking at his matted, rancid fur like a nit-picking mummy monkey. I then proceeded to sponge clean the little dude with Comfort and hung him up to dry.

Morning came. Monkey was clean, monkey was dry, but monkey stank to high heaven and his tummy had taken on a most peculiar tinge of brown. Monkey had to go.

R.I.P. monkey

Having disposed of the putrid primate, I hotfooted it to Dunelm Mill to procure a replacement. Please God! Please God! 

As we sped into the shop I was overjoyed to find not one, but two monkeys still sitting on the shelf! Then I noticed that there were many more dogs and cows to be had and attempted to interest her in one of those. At least that way I'd have an endless reserve to fall back on in moments of crisis, of which I'm sure there would be many more. Mim looked at me like the fool I so clearly was and I crumbled. I promptly snatched up the two remaining monkeys and thrust them both towards her beaming chops.

While I'm sure this attachment object business will come to pass in due course, in the interim I urge any of you, next time you're passing a Dunelm Mill, to fetch up a microwavable monkey or two and know that you will one day be my saviour!



Left: Monkey.
Right: Stunt monkey (now safely tucked away in reserve)



Monkey swag

Monkey is invited
to join Mim for  a
celebratory lunch