Charlie

We ended up going to the fair one last time last night. I know. Four times in one summer is almost too much for anyone, but honestly, Joseph and I really wanted a cinnamon roll. And you haven't had a cinnamon roll until you've tried Old West's version. My mouth is watering just thinking about them.

Side note: I was spoiled horribly for thirteen years. I either lived or worked close enough to their Pismo store that I could go grab one any time I liked. I never understood why people would line up at the fair to get one of their gooey treats until now that I can't just grab one any random Monday.

As we were leaving the fair, we met Charlie. Charlie is a little monkey who loves quarters and shakes hands for a dollar. (Enterprising fellow, no?) Joseph fell in love with Charlie. As we were leaving, Joseph called back, "Pleased to meet ya, Charlie!"

"Did you like Charlie?"

"Yes. I wish I had a monkey like him."

"That would be really cool, wouldn't it."

"Hmmm-mmm. I'd really like to have a Charlie monkey, Daddy." Interesting that the child knows who to approach for things like this.

"I'm sure you would," Chad hedged.

"You know, honey, I don't even know where we'd be able to find a monkey," I added.

"At the monkey store!"

"Oh. Well, I don't think there's a monkey store in town."

"Oh. They're around somewhere. We just need to find one."

"I wouldn't even know where to look."

"Mommy. You have to keep trying," my little man informed me very seriously. "You'll find a monkey store and we can pick up a monkey to take home and we can name him Charlie too and he can be my friend."

Well. I'm glad that's settled.