monkey business

Whenever I visit my family I feel the urge to work -- to gather all the details and ephemera that elude me when trying to describe the place I'm from in the busied haze of the city. But all of my efforts at audio recordings or dedicated writing time seem to get lost in hours of sitting around the kitchen table or lounging in the backyard. Luckily these moments lend themselves to still photography. check it

The funny thing about my family is that semi-religious background aside, they are a foul-mouthed dirty joke crowd. Every third reference or so is to the fact that my g'ma is cranky because she hasn't gotten laid since her divorce thirty years ago or how she turned the old-man neighbor gay because she wouldn't let him get any action. She suffers all of this "filth" with the constant retort of "up your bucket." She defends this phrase with the saying "I ain't cursing, I'm just letting you know where to put it."

So my cousins older children (16,15,13,11) took the youngest of the brood and warped her mind in just the right way. The adorable and attitude-ridden toddler who has recently taken to declaring anyone she doesn't like "dead" had developed an expression known as "monkey face"



But none of the other children found this very amusing. They taught her a new face, the "real" monkey face they told her. And to see a child mimicking her older cousins is both disturbing and hilarious. Moreover, it demonstrates the essential nature of my family. Because upon discovering the "new monkey face" her mother, grandmother, and I did nothing to abate it, but rather requested it's display over and over again and took pictures.



Oh those silly apes.