Dear Monkeys

Oh Monkeys, how I loath/ve thee.

Let me count the ways.


1. Could you BE any cuter? Those ears. That face. I just want to eat you with a spoon. Or fend you off with one. Oh, wait. OH WAIT. You CAN get cuter. In teeny tiny baby bunder form, which is LITRALLY the cutest thing on the planet. As my 14 year old says, you’re like human kittens with the combined adorableness powers of a baby cat AND a baby person.


2. Leggo my eggo. And bread. And towels. And garbage. Seriously, you pint-sized little pirates. I paid for that. And I don’t appreciate your five finger discount. You are why we can’t have nice things.



It’s cool. I was done with that bread. That was IN MY HAND.


3. Listen, I know you see my eye contact as a sign of aggression. But can you just not? Between the thievery and the cutery, I’ve got to keep at least a side-eye on you.


4. One or two of you make me the appropriate amount of nervous; there’s not always rhyme or reason to your attitude problem. But did you really have to get 30 of your best buds together for a ooh-ooh ahh-ahh pow-wow during the small window of time when I need to walk home from class? Get a room.



Can you find a different monkey highway, please?


5. I know we have a love/hate thing going, but I have to admit, you are the most entertaining thing on the hillside. It’d be boring without your hijinks and primate piracy. And from behind the safety of my kitchen window, I don’t mind all the Nat Geo.