I saw, out of the corner of my eye, something fly by my office door, screeching as it went. More than a little bit startled, I went to see what it was when another zoomed by, howling as it went. It was an "Amazing Flying Monkey."Yikes!
One thing you need to know about me is that I don't like screechy, flying things (hmmm, that could be a description of me in an airplane when I forgotten to take my "anti-gravity pills.") I've been especially afraid of flying monkeys ever since I was a kid, thanks to those evil critters in "The Wizard of Oz."
In this case, these "super stretchy screaming monkeys" were a lunchtime purchase by my friend Nancy who brought them back and was launching them like slingshots screechingly down the hall. Soon, others were joining in -- including me. And, indeed, after sufficient whining, Nancy gave me one of my very own to keep.
Nancy had become quite adept at shooting them and her's traveled a long way, screeching the whole time. One was shot (not by me) into Aaron's office -- it fell howling into the space of no return between his desk and the wall. The launcher had to retrieve it with a set of salad tongs from the kitchen. Then Aaron locked his office door. Tim, our leader, just came out of his office, shook his head, and went back to work. Isn't dignified for the president to consort with monkey-launchers, I guess.
Besides the screaming of the airborne primates, the main sound was laughter. Giggles. Guffaws. Belly laughs. It was just soo silly.
It was, of course, inevitable that somebody would get hurt. I could almost hear the Santa Claus in "A Christmas Story" saying, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid." Sure enough, there was an injury -- the tail of my monkey tore off as I was launching him. Poor monkey. I don't know whether to take him back to the toy store and ask for another, or not. Seems a bit of a silly thing for an almost 59 year old man to do. "May have another flying monkey, please?"
My standing there with a monkey tail in one hand and and a screaming monkey stuck on the fingers of my other hand was a source of great amusement to the others though.
It was good to laugh. Really good. Good as in "just what I needed" good.
As I laughed, I thought about how God wants us to enjoy life. I didn't ponder it a long time -- seemed like that would be counter-productive. To get ultra-serious about how God likes us to laugh. But I did remember the verse from Nehemiah 8 -- "Then he said to them, 'Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.'"
Ah, a little fat (like maybe on a t-bone?), a little wine (Côtes du Rhône would be nice), and a screaming flying monkey or two. Rejoice. Rejoice in the Lord always...
-- Brent
PS If you know any monkey tail sew-ers, please let me know... still haven't made it back to the toy store.
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