It seems my son is all grown up.
You see that wretched looking brown thing at the top of the picture? That’s Monkey. He’s been with Will since Day 1. There isn’t a night that goes by when Will and Monkey aren’t together. He cuddles Monkey, he chews on Monkey, he kisses Monkey. And now, it appears he has renamed Monkey.
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Monk!
Yup, that’s right. Just like Prince goes through transformational identity crises, so too does Monkey. Will informed me recently that “Monkey is a baby name.” Then he decreed, in no uncertain terms, we were no longer allowed to address his prized possession by its former moniker. Apparently Will stopped over at the Stuffed Animal Social Security Office (SASSO) and filed the appropriate documents for a legal name change to Monk. Which, quite obviously, is much more grown-up.
I guess I should’ve seen this coming.
My son has been rebelling against almost everything lately, and even altered his own name. We can’t call him “baby,” “pumpkin” or “Stinker Butts” anymore. Hell, he told us we’re not even allowed to call him “Will.” He actively demands we refer to him as William. Sometimes he even goes so far as to order us to address him as “William George.” I joked with him that I should just get it over with and refer to him henceforth as “King William II of Monument Beach.” He liked that one, but fortunately had trouble pronouncing it and promptly forgot about it.
Also, now that he’s fully potty-trained he demands to do his business in private. Before, when he was scared, we needed to be right next to him. Sometimes holding his hand. Now the little bastard cocks his head to one side, gives me a pissy look and demands his privacy.
Just goes to show they grow up fast. But on the bright side, it gave me a chance to post a clip of one of my favorite movies of all time. Enjoy young, thin Vince Vaughn & Swingers!
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