When I was little I had a sock monkey named "Munk". He was my little buddy. My mom patched him up so many times, eventually the hose stuffing just couldn't stop poking through. I remember one time on vacation I accidentally left him in a reststop restroom and 30 minutes after being on the road, I realized. Oh man, was that hard to tell my Dad, but, he turned around and we got Munk back. Someone had propped him up in the restroom window and he was patiently waiting for me. :) In almost every picture on vacation from when I was 6 until 11 that sock monkey is pictured with me, either in my lap or I'm gripping his little arm. I still have little munk, he is in my closet and he looks a wreck, but all his battle scars were caused by love.
Posts
