MY SUNDAY 160
My Grandma made beautiful quilts her entire life,
That are cherished by us all.
How could her gifted hands also create
those terrifying sock monkeys on her bed?
aren't childhood memories wonderful? I can't remember where i put my car keys or glasses 5 minutes ago, but i can remember those damned sock monkeys. Grandma always had her bed covered with one or another of her quilts (and even as a kid i knew they were beautiful), and her homemade pillows. She sewed all by hand, she knitted she crocheted (i can't even spell it)...and then to top it off there were those damn sock monkeys. I'm not sure why, but they always (and still do) creep me out. Some people don't like clowns (which bear a striking resemblance to sock monkeys), my thing is sock monkeys. The only thing nowadays that i can equate them with is the Burger King. If I were a little kid today i would be terrified of the Burger King. There is just something so wrong about him.