29 March, 2017



mr. monkey and i were on our way home and as we walked along a fence, one of the hundreds of squirrels currently terrorizing the neighbourhood ran across our path, freaked out at our presence, changed course in mid run, took a running leap at the fence and bounced right off. it immediately got up and scaled the fence again, this time with perfect precision and aplomb, but it was too late: we were howling with laughter, doubled over, weeping with mirth. idiot squirrel.


walking home one night we had the following conversation:

moi: you're not worried about snakes in the dark?

mr. monkey: no. not at all. at night snakes sleep. it is known.

moi: where do they sleep?

mr.m: generally they sleep in the forest, upright.

moi: upright?! how do they manage not to fall?

mr. m: they lean against trees, mainly.

moi: wouldn't they just slide down?

mr. m: no. they hang on with tiny little snake hands.

moi: what kind of hands are they? like gecko hands? or something else?

mr. m: sort of like gecko hands, but with long fingernails.

moi: what?!! why?!!

mr. m (rolling his eyes at my inability to think for myself): to pick mouse fur from between their teeth!


this went on for a while, eventually an obvious difficulty presented itself to me:

moi: how come we don't ever see snake hands? where do they keep them?

mr. m (incredulous at my idiocy): in their pockets!


Geneviève Goggin said...

Duh...where else would they keep them?!

Zhoen said...

Sssnnakesss pocketssss.