Phew!

Everything's gonna be alright: I got my monkey today.

He tells some pretty ribald stories, I tell you what.

It was sent to me by Michael's sister. I emailed her on Michael's birthday (pretending that I had forgotten it) and I wrote:

"Something else fell by the wayside today, too. I was supposed to do something, but what was it? Michael kept saying to me all day, "Don't you want to tell me something?" and I said, "Um, I love you?", but that didn't seem to be it. Then he started crying as we walked by some kids having a birthday party in the park and I said, "It's a pinata, Michael. It's not real. It can't feel anything". Later on he took off all his clothes, pointed at himself and said, "What kind of suit is this?" and I said, "A fur suit? A hair suit? I don't understand what you're driving at and I think the neighbours are calling the police, so why don't you come in from the balcony?". Later still we were going through some pictures and we reminisced about the trip that we made to see Janice in Kitimat and he said, "I turned forty up there, remember?" and I said, "Really? I don't remember much except for that New Zealand Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc that Janice was stockpiling, and those salmon pastry hors d'oevres. That was some time ago. You must be really, really old now. Don't you have a birthday coming up soon? Anyways, you know what I want for my birthday? A monkey."

And I got it.

I love it.

Love it!

Must now name him.