Monkey-in-a-Turban

Well, it’s official. My sister gave me the coolest gift ever on my 49th birthday. I didn’t think she could surpass the 3-D big-boobed-waitress-on-a-tile or the ceramic Three Little Pigs cookie cutter. And I think there was a Billy Bass in there somewhere. Oh, and a white pleather Bratz watch. But this year she gave me Monkey-in-a-Turban. It’s truly for the gal who already has everything — and I mean everything. He’s obviously the Arab or Indian version of our organ grinder’s monkey; I’m not sure what Monkey-in-a-Turban’s talent is. It looks like a clue was glued to his left palm but as it has fallen off, I’m stumped. I’m not sure which country wears red turbans but that’s insignificant when you look at the amount of pure D emotion in this monkey’s face. When the light hits his face just right, he looks like Grandpa Munster — who looked like my Nana when her blood count was too low.

And one more thing–Monkey-in-a-Turban is a bookend. Which explains why she just bought one of them.

Published in: on May 11, 2008 at 6:19 pm  Comments (4)  
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