Wishbones and Monkey Bites

I’ve been a contributor on a wonderful group website dedicated to the craft of writing, but this is my first time having my very own blog. I take this responsibility quite seriously. The relationship between storyteller and reader is precious, and I don’t take it lightly.

via Compfight

If you read my Welcome, you’ll know how I came up with the name Tea with Savages. I've decided it's time to push back against perfectionism and embrace the chaos and beauty of life. My little tribe of savages is made up of my children, my family, and my friends, both old and new. Now I’m hoping to bring together a new tribe who wants to share stories, musings, and ideas: you, whoever you are, reading this post right now, and me. The idea of finding a group of like-minded people resonates with me. When you take the time to open up and share yourself there are always others who reach back.  

I grew up hearing amazing stories from my family. I loved listening to them as much as I loved reading. Now I tell my own tales to my children, along with all the family stories from previous generations. I would like to share some of them with you. Maybe they will entertain you, or maybe they will remind you of your own childhood.

Here’s a little story that my children still love. It's about a monkey. That goes well with the “jungle of my mind theme,” don’t you think? I have a small wishbone shaped scar on the middle finger of my left hand. Yes, it's monkey-related.

 

photo via Compfight

My father's family came from Norway and moved to the United States. He was born in Stavanger, Norway and moved with his parents to Kent, Washington. There his younger siblings Jane and Ruben were born. We have a vast network of Norwegian relatives still in the area. My mother is Canadian. Growing up we moved often, mostly around Washington (and twice in California.) I suspect our somewhat nomadic lifestyle was due to my dad’s Viking blood.

When I was a little girl, my great uncle, who was married with one son, was a quirky man. His favorite pastime was crocheting beautiful things. I can vividly remember the smell of his house. The whole place smelled like Old Spice Cologne. We didn't know him very well, and didn't see him or his family often. The big draw to visit Great Uncle Iver was his pet capuchin monkey. 

We loved the monkey, of course, and begged to get to visit. One day my Grandma Anna took me to see him. Even though it was such a long time ago, I distinctly remember sticking my hand into the cage and feeding the monkey a Tootsie Roll Pop. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Not exactly the best diet for a monkey. I can only imagine how cute a capuchin monkey eating a Tootsie Roll Pop would be. Unfortunately, the monkey wasn't in the mood for candy. The next thing I knew, the little rascal bit my finger. Hard. His sharp little teeth sliced right through the skin.

I got a couple stitches and the doctor cleaned it thoroughly.  My parents weren’t too worried until the next day. My hand had swelled up to an enormous size and turned horrible colors, and I had developed a high fever. They rushed me to the emergency room. The doctors decided it was more than a regular infection, but were stumped as to what could be making me so sick. They took turns examining me, bringing in whoever was on staff. They were stumped. My parents were beside themselves.

After a shift change new doctors came to look at my strange case. This time one of the doctors happened to be a Vietnam vet. He knew immediately what it was: a jungle virus carried by that little monkey. They were finally able to treat me. That doctor's jungle expertise saved my life.

My blue monkey with some Tootsie Roll
Pops. He doesn't bite.

Things improved quickly for me, but not for the monkey. It wasn't safe to own a monkey who liked to chomp on people's fingers, especially if it was carrying a disease. The poor creature had to be put down. To this day I have a wishbone-shaped scar on my middle finger to show people that a monkey once bit me.

Do you have a crazy scar story? 

Let me know in the comments.