Baby Monkey and Mama G

Today's lazy but appropriate post: A story I wrote for Mothers' Day 2007. Enjoy!

Little Monkey and Mama Giraffe

There once was a happy Little Monkey, who lived in the jungle with her mother, Mama Giraffe. Mama Giraffe and Little Monkey had all kinds of fun together. When Mama Giraffe couldn’t reach the very tops of the trees, Little Monkey would climb to the highest branches and bring her the sweetest, greenest leaves. Mama Giraffe would sit very patiently while Little Monkey climbed up and down her very long neck just like it was a tree. Sometimes she would even walk around while Little Monkey held on very very tightly, only daring to look at the ground for a split second. Little Monkey loved this!

One day, Little Monkey went to the hippo pool to take a bath. Little Monkey liked to play with Herbert and Hessia Hippo, who were twin brother and sister. Herbert Hippo asked Little Monkey: “Why don’t you have a mother?”

“Shhhhh!” Hessia Hippo said to her brother. “Don’t be rude, Herbert.” She splashed her brother.

“Hessia, you’d better stop or I’m going to throw a piranha at you,” said Herbert.

But Little Monkey wasn’t listening. She was confused. “I do have a Mother, though. Mama Giraffe is my mother. Why would you think I don’t have a mother?”

“Hah!” said Herbert. “That’s impossible! Only giraffes can have giraffes for mothers. And monkeys are supposed to have monkeys for mamas, and Hippos,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height, which was rather short, since he was a hippo, “Have hippos for mamas.”

Little Monkey didn’t know what to say. She had never thought of this before. She felt like her whole world had just been turned on its head, like the bats that hung upside down from the trees to sleep.

“I guess I don’t know WHO my mama is then!” Said Little Monkey, sadly. Hessia Hippo could tell that Little Monkey was sad, so she tried to make her feel better.

“Maybe we can help you find your mother,” Hessia Hippo said.

Little Monkey thought that was a great idea.

Little Monkey and the Hippo twins looked all over the jungle. They looked under rocks, in tall trees, in lakes, and in the sky, but they could not find Little Monkey’s mama. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find her,” said Hessia, as the sun began to go down. “Maybe we can look again tomorrow?”

“I guess,” said Little Monkey. She was very sad as she said goodbye to her friends and began to head home.



“What’s wrong?” said Mama Giraffe, as Little Monkey was getting ready for bed.

“Nothing,” said Little Monkey, because she did not want Mama Giraffe to know why she was sad.

“You can’t fool me,” said mama Giraffe, and she tickled Little Monkey. Little Monkey was very ticklish, so this made her giggle a little monkey giggle.

“Ok, fine. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to be mad.”

Mama Giraffe promised. “Now what’s on your mind, my little monkey?”

Little Monkey sighed a big sigh. “If you’re my mama, how come you’re a giraffe and I’m a monkey? Herbert Hippo told me that Monkeys are supposed to have Monkey Mamas.”

“Didn’t Herbert Hippo also tell you that Hippos can jump 50 feet straight up in the air?”

“Yes.”

“And was that true?” Mama Giraffe asked.

“Well, no. But it is sort of funny, isn’t it? I mean, Herbert and Hessia look just like their mama, Hosephina, but you and I are as different as a tree and a rock!”

“That is true,” Mama Giraffe said patiently. “But tell me this: who makes sure you always have enough bananas to eat?”

“You do!” said Little Monkey, thinking of all the delicious bananas she had eaten that day and all the bananas she would eat the next.

“And,” continued Mama Giraffe, “Who tucks you into bed at night and sings you a lullaby to help you get to sleep?”

“You do…” said Little Monkey, who was starting to wonder where this was all going.

“And who teaches you to be nice to all the other jungle animals, and to share your bananas?”

“You do.”

“And what would you call somebody who makes sure you have bananas, tucks you in at night, and teaches you right and wrong?”

Little Monkey thought about this for a minute. “Well, I guess I would call that a mama.” Her face lit up. “That means you ARE my mama!”

“You are right, little monkey, I am your mama, because I take care of you, and I love you just like all mothers love their little monkeys.”

“I love you too, mama giraffe!” said little monkey, wrapping her little monkey arms around mama giraffe’s neck. And then Mama Giraffe tucked Little Monkey into bed, and they both slept soundly under the Jungle Moon.



The End