I grow weary of the three little monkeys, and short of bananas after a few days, but it's only to be expected after experiencing the monkeys at “Longleat Safari park.” “Peanut butter mun keys! Peanut butter mun keys! Peanut butter mun keys!” he chants, oblivious and very, very busy.
“So how long do you think he’s going to keep going with this “ditty” then?” asks his Dad.
“No idea, as long as it takes I suppose.”
“Still it makes a refreshing change from…..” he covers his mouth to whisper “England is Evil.”
We both look at him as he jumps from chair to floor to fireplace in an endless un-tiring circuit, to see if he heard. It’s the third consecutive rainy day for a child that does not ‘do’ weather.
We pause. No fall out. He was probably to busy to hear. We glance at each other, happy not to have tripped his switch.
“So are you going to try some then?” I ask the moving target. Come along now my nifty little neophobic, you need some calories for all that cavorting!
“Wot?” he bellows.
“Some peanut butter?”
“I am hate peanut butter. Peanuts is poison!”
“I know, but since you've been saying peanut butter for days I thought you might be willing to give it another try?”
“So………what's with the peanut butter monkeys then? Where did that come from?”
“Reeses? Reeses peanut butter cups? The candy?”
“No! The monkey.”
“I don't remember any……oh……Rhesus!”
“Yes, Reeses monkeys!”
“But you read the sign at Longleat. R-h-e-s-u-s. You said it out loud. We talked about them. Remember?”
“England Rhesus. America Reeses. England is evil!”