You were around when he was born, though mostly ignored ’til he was one.
You took the place of a pacifier,
and sacrificed your limbs to a teething crier.
Over the years, you’ve slid down slides, been dunked in a toilet and lost one eye.
You’ve been dragged through the dirt, taken to school, snuggled in bed, covered with drool.
You lost your red strings and almost all of your cotton.
One vacation too many, and you were forgotten.
Oh Mommy Monkey, he loved you so, but now you are gone, and he doesn’t yet know.
There may be tears ahead, but you’ve done your job well.
May you rest in peace at the hotel.