People ask me, they say, "Monkey, you and Purple spend so much time together. Do you ever fight?" Indeed, we do fight. While on our vacation a fight started over maple syrup… in a fashion.

It started at breakfast. Purple was allowed to sit on the breakfast table, among the muffins, bananas and coffee. I was held in the sticky fingers of the boy, until I was literally painted with maple syrup. The reason given for my being concealed on a lap, while Purple enjoyed a view and a prime seat was this: "Purple is dressed. You're naked."

Upon returning to the room, there were nefarious plans afoot. I was to take a bath with maple syrup boy. I leapt out the window onto some shrubbery, but not before sharing harsh words with Purple.

Purple took to drink.

Please send clothes. I'm a size preemie.

Thank you.

Last night, events came to pass (chocolate pudding was involved), that required a bath. Foolishly, I made the decision to forgo the washing machine.  I petitioned to be washed by human hands and much to my horror, I ended up in the bath… with the boy.

He seemed more intent on drowning me than bathing me.  I saw my short life flash before my eyes.  After a time I was able to right myself and attempt an ungainly doggy paddle.

As I grew more confident, I tried some water ballet.

But then, the shampooing began in earnest.

I don't have functioning eyelids, which made things rather disagreeable, to say the very least. To be more accurate, I was in agony. In agony I tell you! The boy dutifully shampooed me, and shampooed me, and shampooed me.

The water grew black with… dirt. The tub became a soup of grime, muck and mire. I had no idea how filthy the boy and I had become over the course of the year.

I grew more cheerful. 

I am pleased to report that I am still very much alive and I smell delightfully of papaya.

Please send bananas. Thank you.