Cristin loves to hear the story of how my grandmother ordered a monkey from the Spiegel catalog in the 1950s. I don't think she can quite believe that you used to be able to mail-order monkeys. I don't see why that would be so weird; you used to be able to mail-order brides. Imagine the size of the crates they came in. (Although if the crate was too large, you'd just send it back before they even took it off the train, am I right? Right? [crickets])
Anyway, for some reason I decided to look up the Spiegel catalog online and see if someone had taken a picture of the "monkey for sale" ad. Maybe Cristin called me a liar. Maybe she just had a look in her eye that said, "I'd call you a liar, but since you're friends with my husband, I'll hold back." Actually, I'm unsure Cristin has an "I'll hold back" look. Nevertheless, just in case anyone out there thinks I'm lying when my family tells the story of the monkey that almost bit off my dad's finger so my grandpa shot it and buried it in the yard, here's proof (at least of some of it).
I did this so long ago that I can't remember if I've already blogged about it or not. Oh well. It's not like I'm running the trimmest blog on the high seas, you know.
Title paraphrased from The Simpsons episode "The Great Money Caper."