Monday, August 09, 2004
"Get off! Get off! Get off NOW!!" was what woke me one fine morning. That scream was followed by a thud as monsa hand was flung across the room. Now something to know is that this was not uncommon, the throwing, not the screaming. OK. There seems to be a lot more screaming then there should be, but back to the throwing.
Monsa hand ended up airborne one day due to a bare foot, him being mad at me, and him thinking biting my foot would be a good idea to "punish me" for punishing him. Reflexes being what they are when he took a big 6 fanged bite I automatically kicked out and he went flying across the room and hit the wall. The second I kicked I knew it was the wrong thing to do. I saw the poor little furry guy flying across the room to finally be stopped by the wall.
I ran across the room, heart pounding, and looked down at the furry little guy just lying there. His one eye opened slowly and he looked up at me.
"Monsa? Are you OK?" I was pretty scared at this point.
He slowly stood up, looked at me, grinned, and yelled "Do it again. Throw me! Throw me! That was fun!"
Turns out he liked it. Seems he flies naturally like some flying squirrel. So I agreed, but limited him to a few throws a day. It still seems weird to do it, but he really likes it. He even paid me a Hershey's kiss to throw him one time. Not sure if it is an adrenaline rush, or if nature does it, but throwing monsa is now part of our life.
But back to the screaming.
I sat up trying to figure out what the heck was going on.
"The little rat was licking my forehead while I was sleeping" To say my wife was unhappy would be an understatement.
"Licking your forehead?" This was new to me.
By now Monsa hand had crawled back onto the bed. "She yelled at me" he gave a small sniff.
"Monsa. You scared her." I gave him the standard disapproving look parents are well known for. "Why were you trying to lick her head?"
"She smelled good" He had an earnest look on his face, so I knew he was not fibbing.
"Dear. Why do you smell good?" I looked at her with the same confused look she seemed to have.
"No idea." She wiped her hand across her forehead and smelled it. A strange look came over her and she placed her hand out so I could smell it.
Now I was even more confused. "Why does your forehead smell vaguely like chocolate"
"I don't know. Why are you two looking at...Wait!" She hopped up and ran into the bathroom and returned with a small bottle. She handed it to me and with a smile told me to smell it. I did. The smell of pure chocolate wafted up from the tube. I looked at the label and started to laugh. "Monsa come here."
He hoped onto my lap and I held the bottle for him to read. "What does that say"
He smiled when he read it. "Cocoa butter lotion! Yummy" he made a grab for it but I pulled it away. Good reflexes develop with a hyperactive monsa living with you.
"Stop!" he did but was not happy. I opened it and squirted a little onto my finger. "Here, try this."
The look on his face after he took the first lick was horrible. He stuck his tongue out and took off heading for the bathroom. The resulting running water I heard was, most likely, his tongue being washed off. "You OK in there?"
"Yeth" we heard through the water. yep. Washing his tongue.
Well after washing his tongue off we promised not to get anything with chocolate or cocoa in it that was not edible. We also told him not to lick anyone's head, or anything. No matter how chocolatey it smells.
When asked why he was in here at night his answer almost made my wife cry."I just like to make sure you two are OK. I don't want anything to happen to you"
With a kiss from both of us he scurried back down to his nest and we retired back to bed.
"You know dear" My wife said before she went to sleep "I really love the furry guy."
I do too.
Monsa hand ended up airborne one day due to a bare foot, him being mad at me, and him thinking biting my foot would be a good idea to "punish me" for punishing him. Reflexes being what they are when he took a big 6 fanged bite I automatically kicked out and he went flying across the room and hit the wall. The second I kicked I knew it was the wrong thing to do. I saw the poor little furry guy flying across the room to finally be stopped by the wall.
I ran across the room, heart pounding, and looked down at the furry little guy just lying there. His one eye opened slowly and he looked up at me.
"Monsa? Are you OK?" I was pretty scared at this point.
He slowly stood up, looked at me, grinned, and yelled "Do it again. Throw me! Throw me! That was fun!"
Turns out he liked it. Seems he flies naturally like some flying squirrel. So I agreed, but limited him to a few throws a day. It still seems weird to do it, but he really likes it. He even paid me a Hershey's kiss to throw him one time. Not sure if it is an adrenaline rush, or if nature does it, but throwing monsa is now part of our life.
But back to the screaming.
I sat up trying to figure out what the heck was going on.
"The little rat was licking my forehead while I was sleeping" To say my wife was unhappy would be an understatement.
"Licking your forehead?" This was new to me.
By now Monsa hand had crawled back onto the bed. "She yelled at me" he gave a small sniff.
"Monsa. You scared her." I gave him the standard disapproving look parents are well known for. "Why were you trying to lick her head?"
"She smelled good" He had an earnest look on his face, so I knew he was not fibbing.
"Dear. Why do you smell good?" I looked at her with the same confused look she seemed to have.
"No idea." She wiped her hand across her forehead and smelled it. A strange look came over her and she placed her hand out so I could smell it.
Now I was even more confused. "Why does your forehead smell vaguely like chocolate"
"I don't know. Why are you two looking at...Wait!" She hopped up and ran into the bathroom and returned with a small bottle. She handed it to me and with a smile told me to smell it. I did. The smell of pure chocolate wafted up from the tube. I looked at the label and started to laugh. "Monsa come here."
He hoped onto my lap and I held the bottle for him to read. "What does that say"
He smiled when he read it. "Cocoa butter lotion! Yummy" he made a grab for it but I pulled it away. Good reflexes develop with a hyperactive monsa living with you.
"Stop!" he did but was not happy. I opened it and squirted a little onto my finger. "Here, try this."
The look on his face after he took the first lick was horrible. He stuck his tongue out and took off heading for the bathroom. The resulting running water I heard was, most likely, his tongue being washed off. "You OK in there?"
"Yeth" we heard through the water. yep. Washing his tongue.
Well after washing his tongue off we promised not to get anything with chocolate or cocoa in it that was not edible. We also told him not to lick anyone's head, or anything. No matter how chocolatey it smells.
When asked why he was in here at night his answer almost made my wife cry."I just like to make sure you two are OK. I don't want anything to happen to you"
With a kiss from both of us he scurried back down to his nest and we retired back to bed.
"You know dear" My wife said before she went to sleep "I really love the furry guy."
I do too.
