wild monkey love

I really struggled to think of a title for this post which wouldn’t attract all kinds of heinous Google searches ...

I think I’ve done quite well considering the story (all true) to follow.

A few weeks back, on a weekend morning I was lying in bed with Friday when she initiated one of her endless (and so, so tedious) games of ‘mummy & baby’. This time she was a baby monkey and for a slightly less b-o-r-i-n-g take on the whole game, this time she was ‘still in my tummy’.

Where upon she tries to fold her lanky frame into a little ball on my stomach. Seriously, this is so lame.

I'm trying to place my thoughts elsewhere while she witters away when, clang! 

'Oh no wait mummy, first you must mate with a male baboon.'

Oh. My. God.

'Here comes a male mum, he wants to mate with you.'

Frozen with horror, I desperately try to work out an appropriate response to the next stage of the game while my mind shuts down on me, curling itself into a ball in the corner with its fingers in its ears.

'Wave to him mum.'

I scream at my brain to pull itself towards itself, which it does just enough to send shaky instructions to my hand. Hand waves weakly at invisible baboon lover.

'Look mum, he's imitating you, he waved back.'

Yay.

'Right, that means you've mated. Now I'm the baby in your tummy.'

Shew, that went well. 

Note to self: when she asks the actual Question (coming soon to an awkward scenario near me) I'm so getting David Attenborough on the line. He opened this can of ... baboons?