Obviously We Have a Monkey

Last week I came dangerously close to being mauled by a monkey.

Let me back up.

Despite the fact that I am incredibly young (although not as young as I look, obviously), I have to use one of those geriatric pill dispensers to keep track of my daily meds. I take two pills every day and if I don’t use the fancy pill dispenser I forget if I’ve taken both doses, which leads to under-medicating or over-medicating. I assure you, neither of these things are good.

The other morning, I was frantic upon discovering that my pill dispenser was missing.

The pill dispenser goes in the top drawer of my bathroom vanity. That drawer contains two plastic baskets – one for dental hygiene supplies and one for eyecare supplies – and an open space for my pill dispenser. It was very easy to see that the item was not where it was supposed to be.

It was also not on the counter.

Or in my purse.

Or on my nightstand.

Or on the kitchen counter.

Obviously, this was a sign that something horrific and news worthy was going on in our home. I alerted my family to the seriousness of the situation with an appropriate amount of panic and waving my arms about. I flipped over pillow cushions and cried for help. I sounded the alarm again when there was a failure to adequately respond the first time.

We were facing a crisis, and I needed everyone to be on alert.

As I’ve mentioned before, my family is moving into an RV in less than a week and our 3,000 square foot home is basically empty in preparation for that transition. There are no places for a pill dispenser – or anything else – to go missing. And yet, the pill dispenser had obviously disappeared.

I had a pretty good idea what was going on, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions before doing a little due diligence. As you’ve already discerned, I’m sure, I’m a very rational person. I called off the search and went on to interrogations.

“Jared, have you seen my pill dispenser?”

“Nope.”

“Emma, have you seen my pill dispenser?”

“What is that?”

“The blue thing that has my medicine in it.”

“Nope.”

“Devin, have you – ”

“No, Mom.”

*heavy sigh that indicates I have crossed the line by speaking before being spoken to*

“Well, that settles it,” I said, my suspicions officially confirmed.

“Settles what?” Jared asked.

“We have a monkey in our air ducts that is stealing our possessions for his secret stash of trinkets.”

“What?”

Jared is not a great listener.

“We obviously have a monkey in our air ducts,” I repeated. “That is the only logical explanation. I’ve looked everywhere and the pill dispenser seems to have vanished. Except that would be crazy because things do not magically disappear into thin air. Ergo – monkey.”

“Obviously.”

I returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready and contemplate how we could best protect ourselves and our remaining possessions from the thieving primate. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and decided to put on a little makeup.

I knew before I’d even pulled the makeup bag out of the bottom drawer.

Yesterday I had been cleaning up the counter tops and piling my makeup, brushes, and other beauty tools into the blue and green cosmetic bag. And I bet…

I unzipped the bag. Yep, there it was. My blue pill dispenser had been gathered up with the rest of my arsenal and stored safely in my makeup bag.

“You guys! I have good news!” I ran into the living room where my family was watching TV, waving my blue pill dispenser in triumph.

“Oh, REALLY? Where did you find it?” Jared asked.

“Uhhh… clearly you are missing the point, Jared.” I said. “The good news is we do NOT have a monkey in our air ducts!”

I don’t know why anyone else wasn’t relieved. Maybe they aren’t aware of the danger of air duct monkeys?