Monkeys

Remember the snow monkeys?

Well, this year at Calistoga, John and I both knew that venturing into that particular breach once again wouldn’t yield any new insights. So instead, I just kept referring to all of the people soaking in the tubs as monkeys. Which made for some pretty hilarious imagery.

M: Look, the monkeys are very chatty this morning.

M: Did you see the monkeys? They were playing with pool noodles.

M: Somebody gave the monkeys alcohol! They’re going crazy in there!

And, later, this:

M: Check it out. The monkeys are watching the hotel-worker monkey string Christmas lights.

J: So are we.

M: Yeah, well. We’re monkeys, too. Plus, it’s kind of the Main Event in the monkey house right now.

J: We’re just a bunch of monkeys.

M: Soaking in the pools.

J: I love you, Monkey.

M: No, you’re Monkey.

J: I love you, Chicken.

M: Heh-heh. I’m a chicken in a tub.

J: Heh-heh.

M: I’m a hot chicken!

J: You are a hot chicken.

M: Why, thank you. You’re quite a hot monkey.

J: Thank you.

[Pause.]

M: Okay, but I also am a monkey. I’m not just a chicken.

J: Definitely not.

M: I love you, Monkey.

[Snorgle.]

One Response to “Monkeys”

  1. […] (I’ve written previously about the cheese and the snow monkeys.) […]

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