Some concepts require second looks.
I refer, of course, to the Chore Monkey.
Look, people. We’ve put a man on the moon, provided the youth of today with multiple opportunities to film themselves planking, owling, and other manner of verbification -- we've even convinced large groups of inebriates that Jagermeister is a shot-worthy bar drink.
So why in the wide, wide world of sports have we not perfected the Chore Monkey?
And when I say “Chore Monkey”, I am not referring to our children. Children, while delightfully trainable, for the most part, are prone to contacting Child Protective Services and confiding in authority figures when forced to run to the gas station for cigarettes at 2:00 a.m.
Or so I hear.
Which brings us back to the Chore Monkey.
Primates! Trained, costume-wearing primates! Think of it.
And they’ll be even better than children.
Have you seen a child climb up the side of a building? Pathetic.
Compare that to the image of a tweed-suited chimpanzee climbing up yer drain spouts.
See what I mean?
Think about the many uses of the chore monkeys of tomorrow.
Need to borrow a bit of something from your neighbor but it’s snowing? Send the monkey!
Not sure as to just when you bought that milk and concerned that it may have gone bad? Have you considered having the monkey try a wee bit of it?
Hungry but too lazy to hoist yourself off the couch and wander all the way into the kitchen? Perhaps it's time to send the monkey out for fast food!
They can’t do everything, of course. For instance, I continue to question a monkey’s ability to consistently shop using coupons. And I doubt a monkey’s capacity for sorting clothes by color prior to laundering them.
A monkey once failed to properly "hug" one of my three-wick candles.
Despite all of that, I still think that there’s gold in them thar monkeys.*
I am, after all, an optimist.
* I do not now nor have I ever owned, misused, made fun of, borrowed money from or advocated the exploitation of a monkey. Monkeys are not servants, nor are they delicious. Mostly, today’s post is the result of my wishing someone other than me would do my grocery shopping...
For cryin’ out loud, some of my best friends are monkeys!
A Family Saga
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