Daddy Monkey and the Quest for Towels - Chapter 1

Daddy Monkey and the Glove Monster were on the sofa in the front room, eating. And sighing.

“Chomp-chomp-chomp,” went the Glove Monster.

“Siiiiiiiiiiigh,” said Daddy Monkey.

“Chomp-chomp-chomp,” went Daddy Monkey

“Siiiiiiiiiiigh,” said the Glove Monster.

Well, with all this eating there was quite a pile of banana skins at one end of the sofa, and a pile of chewed gloves at the other.

When Daddy came downstairs and saw the mess, he did a sigh that was even bigger than Daddy Monkey’s sigh sitting on top of Glove Monster’s. “What are you two doing?” Daddy asked, grumpily.

“Eating,” said Daddy Monkey in a sticky sort of way.

“Eating, eating,” said the Glove Monster, nodding the glove-comb on the top of his head.

“It’s making a mess,” said Daddy.

“Bottoms to mess!” said Daddy Monkey. “Look at the mess out there!”

He pointed his long arm at the window. Daddy didn’t need to look. He already knew what Daddy Monkey meant. Outside, the road was deep with water – people were even canoeing on it! The floods had made quite a mess of south Oxford.

“I know you’re bored,” said Daddy. “But you can’t just – waaaaaaaaaaaaagh!” He’s stepped on a banana skin and slipped all the way to the kitchen. Luckily, the kettle was just boiling and he was able to make himself a cup of tea.

“I’m not bored,” said Daddy Monkey. “I’m eating.”

“Still,” said the Glove Monster. “Maybe Daddy’s right. Maybe we should make mess somewhere else too.”

“I quite like mess,” said Daddy Monkey, prodding the Glove Monster in the tum. “Maybe it’s time for an adventure.”

When Daddy had finished his cup of tea, he went back into the front room, ready to tell Daddy Monkey and the Glove Monster to tidy up right now. But when he got there the sofa was empty, except for the impressions of two big bottoms.

“Hmph!” said Daddy, bending down to pick up a couple of munched gloves. But he stepped on another banana skin. “Waaaaaaaaaaagh! Hmmm, tea,” he said.

Meanwhile, Daddy Monkey and the Glove Monster had headed for the letterbox. It was quite difficult for Daddy Monkey to get through because he had a big banana tum. It was even more difficult for the Glove Monster because his big toes, like the fingers of a gardening glove, got stuck in the letterbox flap.

“Ow-ow-ow!” he shouted, until Daddy Monkey grabbed him by his rubbery hands and pulllllllled… Pop! Zong! The Glove Monster got all wrapped round the front gate. Daddy Monkey sighed. Again!

“Maybe we should have stayed at home and had some tea,” he said.

“Nope! Adventure time!” said the Glove Monster, untangling himself in a fingery sort of way.

“Hmph! Bottoms!” said Daddy Monkey to himself. But even as he said it, he saw that someone was watching him. “I didn’t say bottoms!” he shouted, joggling his monkey tum and monkey ears to distract whoever was watching him. But the water said nothing, only looked a bit scared. It chewed a green leaf.

“Oh dear, it’s a deer, what are you doing here deer?” said the Glove Monster, putting out a big wobbly hand to pat the deer on the head.

“Oh dear a deer?” said Daddy Monkey, and fell over laughing at the terrible joke. The Glove Monster took his turn to say “Hmph!” The deer looked worried.

“Is there a way out this way?” she said, very politely. Daddy Monkey and the Glove Monster looked carefully over the front gate. The flood water whooshed by, splashy and smelly.

“No,” they said.

“Oh dear,” said the deer. Daddy Monkey fell flat on his tum laughing away. The Glove Monster had to pick him up by his tail to get him to stop.

“I think the deer’s a bit worried,” he said.

“Oh dear,” said Daddy Monkey, and the Glove Monster fell over laughing, his hands and feet flapping on the ground. The deer didn’t look worried any more, just a bit fed up.

“I’ll just have to swim across the garden again,” she said. “Hmph!”

Daddy Monkey looked carefully at the deer. She was quite small, only about two monkeys high (or about up to Daddy’s knee). Her brown fur was very wet and sticky out, but her long twitchy ears were dry, and she wasn’t wearing any goggles on her big eyes.

“You didn’t swim across the garden!” said Daddy Monkey. “Where are your goggles and towel?”

By the time he’d finished his question the deer had turned round, and he found he was asking her tail. “Oi!” he said, starting to chase after.

But very soon he was up to his tum in the cold water down the side of the house. “Agh!” he said. “Get me my crocodile towel!”

The Glove Monster lifted him out. His fur dripped all the way from the X of his tummy button to the tip of his tail.

“Mess,” said the Glove Monster sadly. The glove on the end of his tail swished worriedly. “We can’t go back inside now.”

“Chase that deer then!” said Daddy Monkey, even though he was being held by one ear. “Maybe she does have a towel after all!”

So the Glove Monster sploshed down the side of the house, swinging Daddy Monkey by the ear. “Ouchy-ow-ow!” said Daddy Monkey.

Glove Monster stopped by the bins and looked down at Daddy Monkey’s grumpy face. “What’s up?”

Daddy Monkey pointed to his ear, which had got all stretched by the joggling around.

“Sorry,” said the Glove Monster, and put Daddy Monkey on his shoulder. After a second, Daddy Monkey spotted somewhere more comfy to go, and was soon resting happily against the glove comb on the Glove Monster’s head while those big gardening glove feet splashed across the patio after the deer.