Haven't you always wanted a mon-key?!

You have to channel the Barenaked Ladies here and "If I had a million dollars". While you're at it, remember their song, "Another postcard with chimpanzees"? John got so sick of me singing that song in the car! These guys must be men after my own heart.

If you haven't caught on yet, I love monkeys. (Yes, I realize that chimps aren't technically monkeys, they're apes. I probably like apes better than monkeys in reality, but that subject is for another day. For my purposes here, they're all going to be called monkeys.) I have wanted a pet monkey for as long as I can remember. It may have originated when I was really little and I watched Bedtime for Bonzo (remember the old Ronald Reagan classic?) with my parents. I remember discussing it with my mom, because she would always tell me about one of her elementary school teachers who had a monkey and had her entire backyard fenced in, including the top, so the monkey couldn't get out. Telling me that monkeys had to wear diapers just made it seem that much more fun. By the way, do monkeys always have to wear diapers, or can you potty train them?

So, I came to a pivotal moment in my life a week ago. I passed up my chance to have a monkey of my very own. Seriously. Here's what happened. John and I were sitting around chatting on a Sunday afternoon. He was surfing the web, checking his Free Stuff on KSL website every minute or so, as usual. And a free monkey popped up. Right there in front of his eyes. He was probably the first person to read the posting. So he asked me, "Do you want a monkey?" (He already knew the answer to this question, mind you. He knows me very well.) And I had to decide then and there if I wanted to make my lifelong dream come true.

I watched the dog run around the back yard, and looked down at my growing abdomen, and contemplated the question. Of course I want a monkey. I have ALWAYS wanted a monkey. But now that I have kids and a puppy and a baby on the way - now is the worst time to be confronted with this. I cannot take care of a monkey right now, or anytime soon, for that matter. The clock ticked as we discussed it. John kept saying, "It's in Ogden. We can call right now and go get it." After four agonizing minutes, the monkey was marked sold, and it was all over.

From the picture, the monkey looked similar in size and type to the one Ross had on Friends. The description didn't give a lot of detail. I don't know if the monkey wears diapers, or how old it is. I do know that his favorite food is Doritos. Not a lot to go on. But I think it's safe to say that I made a wise decision. If this had come up before Katelyn came along, I can assure you that we'd have moved out of our apartment to find somewhere monkey-friendly. That's how serious I am about my love of monkeys. I take my kids to the zoo so that I can spend an hour in the ape house, and then another hour in the monkey house.

So I had the chance. My husband would have let me do it. And I willingly gave up something that I have always wanted. I guess that's what it means to be an adult.

Bye, bye, monkey......