My fourth child (my third monkey child), Edith Anne, was just a little bit spoiled. When she was quite young, we lived in an old house that did not have a full basement (only a dirt floor with a curb wall), so we had to excavate a basement while living in the house. This hefty project involved disrupting the gas line to the house; and, because it was October in the midwest, this meant that we needed to find way to stay warm. Being a pound and a half squirrel monkey, Edie tended to get cold easily. We used a heat lamp inside a tin canister to provide heat for her room (a 4x3x2 cage that was inside our bedroom). Early into the basement excavation, we realized that the light was going to keep us awake all night, and we couldn’t risk using the kerosene heaters while everyone was sleeping. So, being caring parents, we decided that Edith should sleep in bed with us to snuggle and stay warm while the construction was going on. And the construction took awhile. Quite awhile. Long enough for Edie to become very attached to sleeping with us. You know how hard it is to get a little kid to go back to bed and/or stay in bed once they start crawling in with mom and dad? Well, there you go!
Our little bedmate had some preferred places to sleep. Her very favorite was daddy’s armpit (possibly because it was furry), although I could never quite relate to that choice. Phew!! With me, her favorite spot was on my pillow plastered against my face…and, whenever she could get away with it, holding my nose shut with her little furry fingers. To ensure my breathing, I had to devise a hand position which allowed her to cuddle into my outturned palm. Edith Anne eventually appointed herself the bedtime monitor and would take attendance. If daddy had to be up late working, Edie would go to bed with mommy; however, at the hour Edie deemed the appropriate bedtime, she would wake up and begin to pace the bed, running up and down on top of the covers and calling out for her dad. Everyone had to be accounted for at her designated bedtime. But she trained us to behave for the most part and things generally went smoothly. Edie did occasionally have her jealous moments wherein she would wedge herself between us and push our faces apart if she thought we were getting a bit too chummy. (More to come about Edith’s bedtime adventures.)
When we first had Edith, we always joked that she took after her father who was tall and thin and furry. (He sported longish hair and a full beard, and Edie loved to snuggle into his neck and surround herself with fur.) Eventually (a few years later), my husband decided to cut his hair and shave. Uh oh!!! The first time Edith laid eyes on her dad, she went ballistic! Shriek shriek shriek!!! Boom bang boom on the side of the cage!!! Teeth bared and ready!!! He had to walk past her room (cage) to get to his side of the bed, and she was hell-bent on grabbing and biting him. The message was crystal clear — “You’re not my dad! My dad has fur!”
Dilemma! What to do?? Fortunately, it was during a warmer time of year so Edith Anne could spend the night in her room. But she strongly objected and would pace and thump around in her room and fuss and scold. So sleeping was a bit difficult. And yet, she was not about to come out of her room and have anything to do with that non-furry stranger of a man. Nope!! Uh-uh!! Negative!!
Ultimately, daddy started talking to her after dark and with the lights safely off. It was daddy’s voice, so she was amenable to that. And then he would talk to her and bring her out of her room and to bed…in the safety of the dark room. She was amenable to that, too. And somehow little miss Edith Anne decided to accept and love her defective furless dad again.
Edith Anne lived to be 28 years old (eight years longer than the top end of the age range for a squirrel monkey). She shared our bed for 27 of those years. My youngest child. My baby!