....for this I give thanks.

Its Thanksgiving week, and I was thinking this would be a good time to reflect on things that I am thankful for. Now before you go thinking that this will be a weepy testimonial about the blessing of good friends, or loyalty of a faithful companion, let me just set the record straight. There'll be none of that blubbering here. Well, not today, anyway, because……

…………..today's post is all about the joy of SOCK MONKEYS! (For some reason blogspot is being a total ass and is not letting me upload this photo, although it did a few minutes ago but I tarded out and accidently deleted it. Not thankful for that at all.)

As a kid I never had a sock monkey, didn't have any friends that did and in fact I only had a vague notion that they existed, in theory only, really and only that they were popular in the Depression or something. But as an adult I developed an odd interest in the idea of sock monkeys but never actually got one until the Roommate woke me up at 3 am one morning to give me one he had purchased in the middle of the night somewhere, evidently in the general vicinity of a bar. And for some reason I named it Elvis. Months passed and then one night the Roommate once again woke me up in the wee hours to present me with Elvis's secret gay lover sock monkey, so then I had 2. Then Our Rusty bought me a leather-clad motorcycle biker sock monkey but it was separated from him somehow, a long story that involves said monkey being hidden in a shrub in the middle of the night but never retrieved the next day. Oddness, yes. But Rusty did eventually purchase a replacement monkey, sans bike leather though. So I now have 3 sock monkeys who sit on the top of a book shelf in my room. Rufus sometimes catches a glimpse of them which causes him to moan and whine, because those sock monkeys need their eyes pulled out something awful, and Rufus is just the person for the task. Perhaps if I were a better mom I'd let him de-eye them, but they're sock monkeys, for Christ sake. SOME things are sacred.

This is an example of the carnage one would witness if Rufus got a hold of a truck load of sock monkeys, only there would be a thick dusting of monkey-gut cotton batting covering the floor as well as sock monkey carcasses. I do believe this is what my mutt dreams of at night and once he learns to climb a bookshelf, those babies will be his.

So as you reflect on all things you are thankful for this holiday week, say a little prayer of thanks for our dear friend, the sock monkey. Hell, set a place for them at the dinner table Thursday, show them you care. Seriously, where would we be without them?