The Tale of the Monchichi

Brandon had this monchichi as a young boy, cavorting the landscape of northern France and then, later in his boyhood, frolicking about the Provence region of France. After the big move to the US, monchichi (whom he called Kiki - I guess it's some weird french thing) became a US citizen. Alas, as an adult, Brandon moved away from his parents but they held on to the beloved monkey. And they moved. Overseas, and stateside. A lot. Kiki remained a part of the family.

My kids found Kiki among a treasure trove of '80's toys that Nana keeps in the loft in her house. They loved him! Nana let them take Kiki home.


A debate ensued between myself and my dear, long suffering, French-fried husband of mine. We argued extensively over whether he is a monchichi or kiki. SO my 6 year, diplomat for a child, renamed him, Booboo (perhaps after the recent Yogi Bear mania in our household). We all agreed on the fact that Booboo is an adorable and welcome addition to the family.

Regardless of whether he is a munchichi, a kiki or a booboo, this story was really turning out to be a Toy Story 4.

I painstakingly kept Booboo away (far far away) from Duncan who is still puppy enough to want to tear stuffed critters to bits and fluffy pieces.

Booboo logged some miles with us.

The kids buckled him into the mom-mobile.

They brought him shopping in Target.

They took him to the library.
He got to meet a magician.

He even had curry with us at our favorite Indian buffet.

Earlier tonight, they took him to their favorite place on earth. I am fairly sure they will want to get married one day at this place. Maybe have the reception there. They took him to Spoon It (or as we call it, Fro Yo). After Fro Yo, they made a quick stop at the pharmacy and then *poof* Booboo was gone. My poor husband, the original monkey keeper, was with them and they retraced their steps and scoured the car to no avail.

Our hearts are heavy tonight but there is hope. There is hope that some kind hearted employee found Booboo and when I call in the morning, they will say, "Yes he's here! Come pick him up!" Or there's the hope that he found a new home full of exciting adventures. I also hope against hope that some evil kid who tortures and dismembers toys didn't find him (Toy Story 1) or a creepy collector who stuffs him in a box never to be played with again but to go the highest bidder (Toy Story 2).

The six year old is crying. The four year old (who was ultimately responsible for losing him) is trying to divert attention away from Booboo by vacillating between causing other naughty mischief in the house and trying to be funny. Brandon is looking monchichi's up on eBay. We all cope in different ways (obviously, I am blogging about it).

Hopefully there will be another installment in the Tale of the Monchichi. In the meantime, let's keep our fingers crossed that he was found (or is maybe being found right this minute!) and will be waiting with baited breath for his return to the Grigg family.

Jack Black vs. Paul Revere

I read this article today about Sarah Palin's historically incorrect recollection of Paul Revere. There was a photo of a painting of Paul Revere. Look at the resemblance!

Spin Cycle: Waiting

"Thank you. Please have a seat. The Dr. Will be with you shortly."

I sit and wait.

Minutes pass by. I look around at the other patients. And then wait.

The TV is on. I glance at it but with the anticipation of my appointment it's irritating.

I wait.

Time passes. I look at my watch. My next appointment is coming soon. How far behind is this Dr. ?

I wait.

I tap my foot. Tap. Tap. Tap. I wait.

I stare at the receptionist. Maybe I can will a staff member to call me back to a room.

I wait.

I dig around in my purse for anything to entertain my four year old. We wait.

We play thumb war. My mind is on my appointment so his tiny thumbs win and he is quickly bored. I wait.

Here comes a nurse through the door! Pick me! Pick me!

"Mr. Green? Come with me."

I wait.

I tell my 4 year old, "Stop climbing on the furniture." "Stop climbing on me." "Just sit down and be patient." I tell myself to be patient.

I wait.

Maybe I should reschedule. What's the point of scheduling an appointment?

"Mrs. Grigg?"

I jump up! Race the nurse to the scale and eagerly thrust my arm at her to take my blood pressure.

But then she leaves. And I wait.

I bite my lip. I tell my 4 year old to stop digging through the drawers.

I wait.

Finally! The Dr. comes in.

Tells me to take a pill. Tells me to take a script to the pharmacy and wait in line for it to be ready. Tells me to take an MRI and wait for the results. Tells me to wait for another appointment, an appointment in which I will wait some more to be seen by the Dr.

He leaves.

I leave.... to go wait somewhere else.

Crafty McCrafterson and Sons

We traipsed all over town, from park to park, looking for acorn caps to do this cool craft. And after a lot of disappointment (after all, there aren't many big trees to drop quarter sized acorns in south Texas) we found some! Actually we found two places with an Oak big enough to fit our crafting needs: one is at GG's house (that's the kids Great Grandmother) and the other is right outside my husband's work! All that time, they were right there.

Top: Ethan's eggs.

Below: Gabriel's eggs.

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After months of shying away from this very complicated looking art form, I finally dove in to hand embroidery.

It's pretty sloppy, but its also my first effort. The final push to muster up the gumption was stumbling upon a website for left handed stitchers. That was when I made a mad dash to Michael's to buy embroidery floss and a hoop right before closing time last weekend!

I don't know what to do with it now. At first I thought I would frame it and hang it in my kitchen. But then I thought I would make a throw pillow with it. Do you have any ideas?