Sock Monkey

So I hadn't posted anything for a while, and decided to take a break from my saddepressing stuff. I just got home from a super long dance rehearsal, and was tired but happy to be home. So here it is. Inspired by my sister's sock monkey, who was sitting in the corner of this room.

The sock monkey with a rip on his toe sat fresh and happy in his package. He was next to rows and rows of his identical brothers, (minus the rip) all with the same red mouths and slightly pointed downward eyebrows that would make them seem sad if looked at from a certain angle. The red yarn on their hats was vibrant and clean, eager to be braided or mussed. Eager for a child.
They all were stuffed into boxes very close together, close enough to whisper to each other. “Where are we going?” “When will we find our homes?” “Will my child be young or old?” pressed the anxious queries. The sock monkey with the rip on his toe listened intently to these queries, but made none of his own.
They were taken out of the boxes, and placed on empty shelves. The sock monkey with the ripped toe saw that only a few of his brothers where still with him. He was sad, but the sadness quickly left when the children came.
“Oh look! Mommy!” shouted a little girl.
“No honey, not that one. That’s got a hole in his foot.” The mother picked up the sock monkey next to him. They left.
“Hey Dad! Can I get one?” asked a little boy a few hours later. He grabbed the sock monkey off the shelf, and threw him in the cart.
“Let me see that,” said the dad. “Oh, I used to have one of these! But no, Jessie, this one has a rip.” They threw the sock monkey to the back of the shelf, and his head hit the wall. If you looked at him now, his eyes definitely looked sad with his downward facing eyebrows.
Time went on, and dust gathered on the sock monkey. He had given up hope, and all his brothers had gone away long ago. He sat in a pile of mismatched stuffed animals now, including a baby drool stained horse, a scary looking Chihuahua puppy, and a one-eyed frog.
They sat, the mismatched bunch, and waited. Sometimes at night, they talked to each other, telling of their hopes and dreams.
“I want to be adopted by a little girl,” said the horse.
“I want to go to a home with a real dog,” said the Chihuahua puppy.
“Ribbit,” said the frog.
The sock monkey didn’t say anything.
Then one day, a store employee picked up the mismatched group and threw them in a box.
“No! We’re being thrown away!” crowed the horse.
“Put us back! Put us back!” pleaded the Chihuahua puppy.
“Ribbit!” said the frog.
The sock monkey didn’t say anything.
But then, another store employee started conversing with the one holding the box. They talked for a while, and the second employee took the box. She carried it all the way to the front, and checked out all four stuffed animals.
They arrived at her house, and she brought them gently into a room. In the room, were almost a hundred other mismatched stuffed animals! The baby drool stained horse was put by a three-legged goat and a lamb that was missing a few patches of fur, the scary looking Chihuahua puppy sat with a Labrador dog with too big of a head and a wolf whose button that used to make him howl at the moon had broken, and the one-eyed frog relaxed next to a butterfly without antennae and a toad with realistically slimy skin.
The sock monkey was lovingly placed on a shelf next to a clown without a red nose and a jack-in-the-box that didn’t spring until three whole spins after his song ended.
And suddenly, the sock monkey’s ripped toe made him feel surprisingly at home among his new friends.
“This is wonderful,” the horse said contentedly.
“I have met someone else that is also scary, as I am,” said the Chihuahua puppy.
“Ribbit,” said the frog with a happy sigh.
The sock monkey didn’t say anything, but he smiled. And his eyebrows didn’t make him look sad anymore.