“You are making a fool of me,” Laura said.
She walked back into the living room. There was Frank, in the corner, perched on the monkey. He had dragged it out from behind the plant. He was rocking slowly, a half-eaten slice of apple pie balanced on his knee. Henderson was staring, mouth slightly ajar. Mrs. Henderson was trying not to laugh. husband on monkey rocker
He didn’t just sit. He rocked .
Saturday came. The Hendersons arrived. Laura had staged the living room beautifully—the monkey rocker was banished to the back corner behind a large fiddle-leaf fig plant. Frank was on his best behavior. He served drinks. He laughed at Henderson’s golf stories. He carved the roast. “You are making a fool of me,” Laura said