Wednesday  Mar 08, 2006

Every BODY Has a Story: Creepy Sock Monkey

"When I was a baby, I had this sock monkey. I couldn’t have been more than two or three at the time because I remember being in my crib. I think the sock monkey is my first real childhood memory. Which is sort of screwed up, really, because the sock monkey was Not cute or cuddly. It was disgusting. I remember waking up in the middle of the night with its dumb bland eyes on me, its cherry red mouth lolling wide, and I’d hurl it out of the crib in horror.

But the next night would be the same. My mother would pick up the sock monkey, brush it off affectionately, and tuck it in next to me securely when I went to sleep. Finally, I started shrieking and screaming every time I saw the nasty thing. I developed a total phobia of all things sock monkey- I have Paul Frank nightmares…

Why did my mom subject me to the creepy monkey? Because it was her monkey when she was a baby, her mother (my grandmother) made it for her. She couldn’t imagine how anything so loveable (to her) could have possibly caused me so much distress.

The damn sock monkey Still bugs me.

When things bug me, I like to have them out in the open. The tattoos that say the most about me are the ones I have on my neck and hands. The sock monkey is like that. So yeah, I hated my sock monkey as a kid, but now I have a picture of the monkey in fetal position with its head on fire.

You talkin’ to Me, monkey? So yeah, I have a sense of humor about the whole thing, but you should see the earwig tat on my leg. I HATE earwigs."

Comments

Post a comment