My sister leaning over my crib. Also Barrel of Monkeys holding hands and tails from the sealing to just over my face. I think there was something about them I didn’t like, the Monkeys—something to do with the sharp thin plastic from which they were made. I think perhaps one fell and poked me in the eye. I can see different colors—red, brown, yellow, blue—and I can see their expression. Of course the second after I write this I’m going Google Barrel of Monkeys and I know I’ll recognize their simean grins.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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