Most weekdays, I only see Cole for a few hours at the most. Despite wishing I was more of a morning person to hang out with him and Alex, it usually waits until Cole comes to wake me. But then we get to have a few pretty cool moments.
“Daddy?” he asks. I twitch. “Dada?” My eyes open and I see his grinning face and sparkling eyes across the other side of the bed from me.
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When I walked into work this morning, our office manager took one look at me, stifled a bit of a chuckle, and asked, “Another rough night?”
“The roughest,” I replied.
“Uh-oh,” she said, which is about all the cue I needed to launch into what ended up being about a 10-minute description of last night’s “sleep”.
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Sorry for the sporadic updates. There’s always stuff going on, but sometimes things happen so slowly that you sense they won’t be interesting to anyone but Mama and Papa Monkey. 
Also, photographs are always a welcome addition to blog posts, and I keep trying too hard to make them relevant.
On that note, let me dig back a bit into the vault. Not really for my readers, but for us. Mid-August, we went on a camping trip with our friends Natalie and Steve, along with their wonderful little daughter Elise. Suffice it to say, Read the rest of this entry »
Monkey House is populated by three lovely and wonderful simians–Greg, his wife Alex, and their son Cole. He is a jack of all trades, she is a scientist/athlete, and their son is a poopsmith.