Why it's impossible to write with a monkey named Bobo around

 Dad got me a monkey yesterday. Who knows why the name Bobo came to mind, but it did as soon as I looked at that tiny, furry face with the serious, but impish, eyes. Dad’s plan was for Bobo to inspire me. Don’t ask me to follow his thinking. Ever since I managed to write a complete short story in a single weekend – like no one’s ever succeeded in that before – Dad thinks I have the makings of a writer. He’s worse than a teacher, suggesting I write out a list of verbs and then come up with a second but better one for each, more active or something. He also bought me a new dictionary, as if it held the secrets to inspiration better than the older edition. I hate to break it to him, but no list of verbs, new dictionary, or noisy monkey is going to make me a writer. In fact, Bobo is having none of it.
The new dictionary still sat where I left it on the table when I decided to take a traditional photograph of Bobo, to sort of initiate him into the family. I put a bright red bib with a baseball emblem on him and a banana in his hand and sat him in a chair with a dishtowel tying him in place. He flung the banana at the wall, picked up the dictionary, opened it, and ripped a few pages out with his teeth. Then he smiled for the camera. “Eeh-eeh-eeh,” he said, which I think is his version of hee-hee-hee.
At least the dictionary inspired someone.
I set the camera down, but wasn’t giving up on the picture-perfect photo just yet. I bribed Bobo with a glass of orange juice. Big mistake. In less than a minute I was wearing it.
“Eeh-eeh-eeh.”
“Definitely not funny,” I told Bobo while I paper-toweled myself dry.
“Eeh-eeh-eeh.”
“Fine.” I snapped picture after picture of Bobo, all with his teeth showing and chin up, one with his hand on his head, another with his hairy arms in the air letting me know he wanted to be done now. I ignored him and kept clicking the camera. “Hee-hee-hee.”
I was so involved in laughing and focusing the camera on the adorable, mischievous little face that I lost track of Bobo’s hands. Which were untying the towel. A second later, Bobo’s chair was tipped over, then another one crashed down, and another, and another. All the while, “eeh-eeh-eeh” escaped his lips.
When I finally caught up to Bobo and held him firm in my arms, Dad walked in. “How’s the inspiration going?” he asked.
“Eeh-eeh-eeh,” was Bobo’s response.
I smiled as Dad took in the room, including one shredded dictionary. “Hee-hee-hee.”




14 comments:

  1. I have been told by a couple of readers that they posted comments, which did not show up. So naturally, I am wondering if Bobo hit a couple buttons on my computer when I wasn't looking, and now my whole blog might not working. So this post is mainly just to check it out, to see if Bobo has been into mischief again or not. :-)

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  2. Deb, loved the Bobo story. Great description of the mischievous monkey. Sounds like he more than inspired the young writer. You should certainly continue with the Bobo vignettes. Great insight into the writer's character.
    More Bobo adventures, please!
    Silvia.

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  3. Hilarious! I'm dying to know if this dad is for real. :-)

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  4. Silvia, hi! You too lack a google identity? I forgot to sign my comment. Carol, in case anyone wondered. No blog, just a facebook URL.

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  5. Bobo sounds like a great character to unleash your creativity on, especially on those days when other project ideas are lean. This piece is fun and playful, and in some ways, Bobo represents the writing process- thoughts come and go, taunt us, and sneak up on us. Hope you continue to add more to this.

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    1. Eventually I will. Thanks for the read, Carolyn. :-)

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  6. Haha cute story!! Would love to read more on bobo!

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  7. I enjoyed your Bobo story. I met a Bobo once. I met him in a dentist's office while I was under anesthesia. The dentist was removing a tooth and that was represented in my hallucination by a great cavity/ravine between two mountains. I was on one mountain and Bobo was on the other. It is a very funny for me to remember as I can still hear the funny anesthesia-induced voices after over 40 years. :)

    Thank you for following my blogs PS Annie! and Heartstrings. I appreciate that very much. Have a great week!

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    1. Thank you for stopping by. I'm glad you enjoyed this.

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  8. Hee, hee, hee is right! Great story, Deb! I nominated you for a Liebster Award. I don't know if you are familiar with it or not, but the details are at http://lorilmaclaughlin.com/2014/05/17/the-liebster-award. Accepting the award is completely optional, but I wanted to let you know that I really enjoy reading your posts. :)

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