Monkey Business

Fred went to her teenage stomping grounds in Bensheim to attend a high school reunion, which sounded like it has the potential for quite some severe fun. If I'm a grass widower, does that make the boys grass orphans for the weekend? Well, with three guys home alone monkey business is of course the M.O.. So what better place to start than the zoo.



Karl was all old pro, leaning back, watching his brother freak out, because with every visit Henri now realizes that there is quite a wild world out there that has to be squealed and giggled at. Look! Gators! Fishes! And yes, of course - monkeys! Karl in turn is becoming more and more the perfect big brother, watching out for Henri, giving him ice-cream, because daddy tries to get away with giving baby just fruit. First signs of ganging up style bonding have been observed for a while now. Just when we were about to gear up for a big wilding session at the playground a unseasonally cold shower brought the afternoon to a thundering halt though. So it was back to the clubhouse, as our apartment is now called (think "National Lampoon’s Animal House"). Yup, monkey business is the name of the game. You gotta choose your monkey wisely though. Karl and Henri watched in awe how the Orang Utan matron disciplined a rowdy youngin' (kinda mangling his limbs to turn him into a bundle of remorse and using large patches of his skin as handles). So we decided to settle on the gang of adolescent chimps who tore their compound apart. Well of course if things go out of hand there are two things to get Karl's and Henri's attention. Stories in any form or media for Karl, food for Henri. They shared both as a an appetizer. They got to watch two episodes of "Sandmännchen", the classic toddler show that's been on TV since the 50. Quite harmless fare I'd say, thrilling enough to keep the Kreye brothers mesmerized for ten minutes though.



More rowdy behavior, intentional and unintentional property damage and blatant disregard for community standards of decency tomorrow.