Monkey Business

Sally and the disfigured Booloo

After the first few times my in-laws took Ellen to Perkins, this restaurant became Ellen’s first pick when dining with Grammy and Papa.  The lure is the kids’ menu item “Rainbow Pancakes.”  (The basic principle at work here is that if you add rainbow sprinkles to any food item, it becomes gourmet children’s cuisine, infinitely more pleasing to the young palate than the exact same food item sans sprinkles.  Incidentally, the General Store Café in Minnetonka latched on to this principle admirably with their “PB&J with Rainbow Sprinkles,” and they even took it up a notch by letting the kids add their own sprinkles). 

            Last night after church with Grammy, Papa, and Auntie Laura, we headed down the block to get those Rainbow Pancakes.  Ellen and Cecilia both took to their kids’ menus with crayons, triumphantly circling the picture of their colorful item of choice, and X-ing with red crayon the less enticing options, such as “Grilled Chicken Sandwich” and “Macaroni and Cheese” (though we were briefly distracted by the “Perky Bear Pancakes” – see principle above, substitute chocolate chips).     

            After we ordered, the fun really began, because approaching our table was a young woman wearing a belt full of colorful balloons and a button that said “I TWIST FOR TIPS.”

            “Do you girls like balloon animals?” she asked.  After taking in the enthusiastic nodding, she asked, “what sort of animal would you like me to make?”  Both girls settled on a monkey, pink for Cecilia and blue for Ellen.  These monkeys were adorable, complete with faces drawn with black Sharpie.  They were christened Sally and Booloo, respectively, and monkey games and monkey sound effects carried us straight through Rainbow Pancakes, the bringing of the check, and the ride home. 

            When we walked into the house, a sudden and violent cry came from Ellen.  “Look what happened!  Booloo’s ear!”  Indeed, Booloo had pulled a van Gogh – the ear was completely removed (probably untwisted and absorbed into his chest).  Hysterical tears and screaming were immediate, and after several minutes and several unsuccessful calming techniques, I said, “I have an idea.”  I went to my emergency stash of stickers and found some puffy Care Bears.  “Pick a sticker and we can give Booloo a makeshift ear.”  Since the stickers were new (and puffy), they proved more exciting than balloon monkeys.  Tears were halted and peace reigned.  Genius, I thought to myself smugly.  Nice work, Mom.

            Oh, but then another blood-curdling scream let from Ellen’s throat.  “NOW LOOK!”  I came running.  Dear lord, Booloo was three-quarters of the way to full-on Helen Keller.  While applying the Care Bear sticker ear patch, Ellen popped Booloo’s eyes, rendering him completely blind as well as half deaf.  “Now I KNOW he can NEVER be fixed!” she yelled. 

            There was nothing for it but to give hugs and explain that balloon animals don’t last forever, but the good news is that there will be plenty more balloon animals to cherish (and maim) in the future.  While delivering my lesson, I saw Ellen’s eyes shift and alight on Cecilia’s pink monkey, Sally.  Ellen said to me, “Maybe Celie would like to trade with me.”  Before I could launch into why taking her sister’s monkey is not the way to deal with her disappointment, Ellen ran over, took Sally into her arms, and cried lovingly, “Booloo!” My head hung down to my chest as I let out a giant sigh.

            The girls aren’t up yet, and so I’ve taken the opportunity to hide both monkeys.  Maybe they will have forgotten about them overnight.  I probably should hide the Care Bears stickers too, as they will serve as a bitter reminder of yesterday’s misfortune. 

              Next time Grammy and Papa take us to Perkins, we'll count on the Rainbow Pancakes providing all the excitement we need.  If we're really feeling saucy, maybe we'll try the Perky Bear Pancakes.