where's mexico?

(this post was written by uncle fred, who babysat last night.)

The monkey and I threw a party — a search party. We needed to find Mexico, which was in the couch.

Not making sense? I can translate.

The monkey is four inches tall, and he's stuffed. He doesn't talk.

We were looking for Mexico, because we were supposed to find "where Maxie go."

I'd pile a lot of cushions on top of him and then pretend I couldn't find him. Sound pretty clever? I didn't make it up. Max insisted that we "play hide-and-seek with the couch" pretty much as soon as I stepped in the door. He either had it worked out in advance, or he was doing some good improvising.

He'd be quiet for long periods of time under the cushions, and I'd talk about how deep into the couch he must have gone. Eventually I started talking to a stuffed animal, which seemed natural enough at the time. Literally the second I'd pretend to have found Max, he'd ask if we can play "where Maxie go" again, as if the real purpose of the game was to make sure that the game doesn't stop.