The great storm of '27

     When I think of myself and bonobos the first thing that comes to mind is the great storm of '27. They were in quite a fix then, what with their trees falling over and getting wet, I had to do something. What ended up happening was they all moved in with me. So there I was, with fifty plus bonobos living with me. Now you might be thinking, How on earth did you fit fifty plus bonobos into your tiny little apartment? and let me tell you it was difficult. Yet somehow, miraculously, they all fit and weathered out the storm with me. Yes, living with more than five dozen small(ish, actually not really, they were all about the same size as me, except for the babies - they were tiny) furry creatures was not easy. Walking around my apartment was not easy; they were piled up, at least three deep. Nor was it very quiet. While bonobos are not a rock concert they are very loud, more on the order of a very dramatic classical piece. Luckily I was able to hold it together and not kill too many of them.
     After a couple of weeks the storm was over. Yes, I thought, the storm is over. Now all these crazy monkeys will leave me in peace and quiet. It was not to be. You see, they decided  that since they loved living in my house so much, they were going to stay. Oh great, just what I need. Ah well, who am I to argue with a mob of puppy-eyed bonobos.
And so they stayed with me.