Saturday, August 25, 2012
If you think that’s funny, it’s obvious to me that you’ve never experienced a serious sock monkey infestation. We have, and it’s nothing to laugh about. (We've all had the crabs, right? Well, it's kinda like that except they're all over your house.) It took us nearly four years to get rid of them, and we’d been sock monkey free for going on two years . . . at least we thought we were. I heard my wife let out a string of cusswords when she dropped that angel hair pasta, and I instinctively knew what was coming next. Sure enough, she yelled out; “Hey, old man! Bring me that tall jar with the woman on top.”
I looked up at the top shelf in my little eBay dungeon where I usually keep it, and it was gone. All the blood rushed to wherever blood goes when one is terrified, and I had to sit back down or fall over. I knew they were back. Sock monkeys are despicable creatures, and . .
