On the couch, I find my little old skool Eeyore given by a dear former girlfriend, but still no monkey.
Under the bed? Nope.
Under the pile of clothes? Ehhh eh.
In the bedroom I never, ever use? Gosh darn it.
In the car? I'm not that desperate and I remember it being here so clearly.
But then, I flip over the laundry basket on the aforementioned couch and his little plastic eyes are beaming right at me.
YAY! I'll put a picture up of him when I can. I love him, but I can't remember what I named himit's been a while since we hung out.