Remember when I became a grandmother…
…to these lovely children?
Well, when my seven year old, Terran saw them, he decided that he wanted to be a dad too.
So he made himself an egg-baby named Colin.
This is Colin within minutes of his birth…
I gently suggested to Terran that he might be better finding a baby that was more shatter-resistant.
So he did.
This is Chilean Monkey.
Yes, that’s his name: Chilean Monkey.
I know, right. Never ending supply of creativity in this house.
He’s pretty cute.
I thought he was very cute when I found him in Terran’s bed like this…
…and even cuter when Chilean Monkey was caught doing this…
…because nothing says adorable like a monkey taking a shit.
So yes, I’m all kinds of proud because Terran is potty training Chilean Monkey.
I find Terran sitting and watching
Toddlers in Tiaras educational television with Chilean Monkey.
I see him spoon feeding the chimp yogurt.
At one point there was even discussion of Chilean Monkey’s future, something along the lines of, “Mom, when Chilean Monkey grows up, he’s going to be really famous.”
I replied, “That’s nice.”
And it is.
Until I walk by Terran’s bedroom, and see him throwing his child from the top bunk of his bed.
“What are you doing? I could call Social Services on you for doing that.”
“It’s ok. He’s learning how to repel. It’ll come in handy when he’s a grown up.”
However, I find this pretty harmless and again, pretty fucken adorable, so I move on… plus Grey’s Anatomy was coming on.
Then when I come back upstairs to put the boy to bed, I find Chilean Monkey doing this…
“Now what are you teaching him?”
“How to use automatic weapons. Doesn’t he look cool!”
Maybe I’ll give him another egg.
An egg baby would look pretty stupid holding an automatic weapon.