We're talking stuffed monkeys here folks. Georgia has taken to wrestling hers lately and giving him hell. (forgive the soft-focused picture)
The monkey was Georgia's before she was even born. She was quite the mover in my belly, so I called her my little monkey (lovingly in the daytime hours, maybe a little less at 3 a.m.). Thus her daddy set out to find her the perfect stuffed monkey and wound up at the zoo.
Voila! Perfectly adorable monkey, that is if Georgia doesn't rip his head off.