Mr. Monkey is an actual real-life thing from my childhood.  He was handsewn together by a relative of some sort… maybe my maternal step-grandmother?  Definitely someone on my mom’s side of the family.  We didn’t really visit with any of those folks once I was old enough to remember things.   Anyway, Mr. Monkey’s tail kept falling off.  Maybe because I used to drag him around by it, and also tie it around the doorknob of my bedroom and swing him around.  He was a monkey, y’know.  They swing.  And I was absolutely furious when he was gifted to my younger brother when I got older.  God dammit, Mr. Monkey was mine.

I dunno where he is now.

I miss him.