Inside Jokes, Part II

Several friends and I were at Six Flags last summer. Jonathan, who was maybe seven years old at the time, was with us. He's the son of a good friend and colleague of mine.

Jonathan had won a little stuffed chimp at one of the carnival games. It had velcro in its hands which allowed it to hug its owner. It was cute. It didn't have a banana, but it was cute if only because it could be made to permanently hug you, and who can say that's a bad thing?

While standing in line for one of the rides, I took the chimp from Jonathan. I started messing around with it generally, when the inspiration hit me.

I turned it around, and started slapping its backside.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked, a little upset that I was abusing his stuffed animal.

"I'm spanking the monkey!" I responded as I broke out into hysterical laughter. All my friends joined me, as did several of the high school kids in the near vicinity waiting for the ride to come back around.

Jonathan, thankfully, didn't get it. He laughed, halfheartedly, but I think he knew there was a joke in there that he just wasn't getting. He snatched his chimp back to keep me from further inflicting punishment upon it. I, on the other hand, was starting to tear up from my own joke and the fact that it received such a great response. (Attention whore, much?)

Once, when I was discussing that stupid "Milkshake" song with his parents (without being too explicit, of course), Jonathan piped up with, "It's a milkshake! Like, you drink it! Duh!"

Yep, Jonathan, so it is. Your youthful charm and innocence, which will soon enough be lost to maturity and adulthood, is one of the many reasons we love you so.