Walking to the park yesterday, we saw a chip monk running through the trees. I said to the Little Man, “See that, buddy? That’s a chip monk.”
“Chick monk,” he said. “Whas he doo’in?”
“He’s out getting dinner for his family,” I said. “Chip monks eat nuts.”
“Oh man.”
“Do you like nuts?” I asked him.
“I like donuts,” he said.
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We’ve had a chipmunk living under our deck for years. Last weekend, I learned that M. thought they were called “chick monks.””