I want her. I want a little baby girl monkey. Not a human daughter. But a monkey daughter. I could dress her up and she'd never tell me she hates me. And she wouldn't start drama. I need a baby girl monkey.
One of my favorite things about Munich is that, for whatever reason, when she finds herself flying across the room, she picks up her landing gear and points her nose. Yes, my dog understand slipstream aerodynamics. God help us.