This Is the Story Of A Boy and His Monkey

When Andrew was two years old he got a staph infection in his leg and ended up having to have surgery. He was so little and so scared.  The staff suggested we buy him a stuffed animal to bring into the prep area since mom and dad couldn’t go into surgery with him. At that point I was willing to do anything to comfort him. He had such big tears and I couldn’t bear to see him so sad. His Daddy Mark and I headed down to the gift shop. That is where we found him.

Among all of the Ty beanies and Mylar balloons we found the perfect little guy. Like Andrew, he was cute and quirky and almost seemed to have a personality of his own. What made him even more perfect was that he was a monkey. Andrew’s nickname had been “monkey” ever since he could crawl. He would climb and get into everything and his favorite food has always been, you guessed it, bananas. There was no doubt that this stuffed animal was the one we should bring back to him. ChaChing!

We walked into the room and the moment Andrew saw him he shouted, “Mikey!” He acted as though they knew each other. We later figured out that “Mikey” was his version of “monkey” but the name Mikey stuck.

Mikey was definitely a pal to Andrew through his surgery and after. They became inseparable.

Andrew took Mikey everywhere he went. Mikey and Andrew, Andrew and Mikey. They thieved cookies together (Andrew still insists Mikey did it), were tucked into bed together, sat in the car seat together, and most of all they played together. We were even obligated to pray for Mikey when he lost his smile (silly thread) and the first time he was involved in a mud war and had to be washed, Andrew cried brokenhearted because he said the washing machine was going to drown Mikey. Oh boy. I had some explaining to do.

Over the years Mikey became another member of the family, albeit an inanimate one. Andrew found such comfort in having Mikey that I figured I would have to sit him atop the boy’s wedding cake when he got married. Then the unthinkable happened.

Mikey got lost.

Andrew left him at his dad’s house after a weekend visit and you know stuff happens. Dad moves, stuff gets lost, Mikey monkey was never found. This didn’t sit well with Andrew.

He often asked about Mikey or would call his dad out of the blue to ask if he had found Mikey yet. He would cry at night sometimes (at the age of 7) and say he just misses his Mikey. What’s a mom to do? Then, then…. we see this commercial:

When he sees this he says, “Mom somebody in that commercial stole Mikey! You have to get him back, mom! Please.” He cried himself to sleep.

When he woke up the next day I talked to him about how Mikey isn’t really a real monkey and how there are other stuffed monkeys like him. Keep in mind that this is the same kid who lost a tooth and asked if he could just have his money now because he knows that dad is the daddy fairy. Yet, he believes in this monkey. He finally tells me he doesn’t care if Mikey isn’t real. He is still his Mikey and he has to find him. He was so sincere that I couldn’t help but tear up.

So, I did what any good mom would do. I googled until I found the right monkey, bought it (much higher than the original cost, mind you), waited for it to come in the mail, and then I wrote a note that was supposed to be from Mikey.

When he came home and saw “Mikey” sitting on the table his face just lit up! He was so excited. He jumped up and down, called everyone he could think of, and hugged and kissed me like there was no tomorrow.

After he finally calmed down he looked at me and said, “Mom, I know you wrote that letter for Mikey but thank you anyway.” He kissed me and ran off. Mikey #2 had his first adventure… in the trees. Don’t worry. We finally got him out with a baseball. We prayed for him that night and I secretly washed him when Andrew was asleep. All is well now in Andrew’s world.

Welcome home, Mikey.