I’m a day belated on this birthday write-up, but the love and sentiment are just as robust as if I’d posted this on my little sister’s actual birthday (which was yesterday). So, Happy Birthday, Kimmy! It’s hard for me to believe that she’s 25 now. I’ll always picture her in this little yellow overall outfit with her hair in braided pigtails—probably about five years old. But now she’s a charming young woman, and I’m left wondering where the time goes.
To celebrate Kimmy’s big day, we all met at Abuelo’s in Westfield. The waiter wasn’t too bad, and the food was great as usual (I’m partial to the spinach enchilladas…yum!). I couldn’t wait for Kimmy to get to her presents, because I had included in her gift bag what turned out to be the gift of the evening…a Flying, Screaming Monkey. And what says, “We love you,” better on a birthday than that? In my opinion, nothing. Thankfully, the gift portion of the evening was at the tail-end of our gathering (no pun intended). Otherwise, I might have been a little nervous about getting thrown out of the joint. Let’s just say that Mr. Monkey was flung, thrown, spanked, and launched within minutes of his unveiling—all the while belting out his patented screach. Fun times! Check out the photo below of the guest of honor with the aforementioned primate.
“So?” you ask, “Who exactly is this Flying Monkey, and where did he come from?” Well, look no further than Mass Ave Toys for your answer. As the tag describes him, he’s a flying, screaming monkey. The little call-out on the tag says, “Hear me SCREEEAM!” For those in need of a more technical description, he’s a small-ish stuffed animal with bungee cord arms, a rockin’ black cape and mask, and a battery powered noise maker that lets out a chimpanzee noise when launched. It’s ingenious, really, and I personally thing it’s about as much fun as you can have for a cool $5.00. And to top it off, procuring one of these flingable primates means that you’ll have to spend time at the best toy store in town. It’s a win-win situation.
As I mentioned before, the flying monkey took his maiden flight while we were still in the restaurant. Here is a picture of my mom demonstrating the correct launching technique:
The real fun started after dinner, however, when we took the toy out ot the parking lot for some real monkey business (Come on, I couldn’t resist!). I think the goal was to see exactly how far the monkey would fly without (a) landing on any part of the building that would render him unretrievable, (b) ending up in the ditch, or (c) find his way onto the freshly watered lawn. As you’ll notice below, Flying Monkey really can reach great heights. In the picture with my sister and brother-in-law, look in the upper right quadrant of the photo. Yes, that’s the monkey. I’ve even provided close-up photographic proof.
That old crazy law of physics about what goes up must come down holds true in this case, as well—a lesson that Flying Monkey unfortunately learned the hard way.
So there it is, a birthday party to remember—For-ev-er. I think that Kimmy had a pretty good time, even if everyone else had their hands all over the monkey before she could give it a whirl. I’ll conclude this post with my Happy Birthday List for my dear little sis:
She is very funny
She will always indulge my request to sing a duet version of 500 Miles by the Proclaimers
She does an awesome booty dance
Children flock to her
She still likes me even though we used to fight like cats and dogs when we were younger
She forgave me for accidentally punching her in the nose when she tried to trick me by sneaking up on me in the morning as I left the bathroom (In my defense, I was half-asleep at the time!)
I could list more, but if I don’t get this posted soon, it will be two days late. And that’s just unacceptable. So “Happy Birthday, Kimmy!”…this one’s for you.