It's Peru, Baby.

Took Julio the monkey to the cinema last night, since he can't be left alone. He slept peacefully through the trailers, but 10 minutes into the film he woke up and started making a great squeaking, squalking racket. Being new to monkey fostering duties, we'd forgotten his milk and banana in the car, unfortunately. As the audience became gripped by the the dramatic tension in the 'The Eye' (rather scary, suspense filled Chinese thriller) Julito let out shrieks and jumped from Tito's arm to mine and back. I sank further and further into my seat as people turned to look. Suddenly, at a particularly scary bit, as the audience sat on the edges of their chairs, the señora beside me let out a blood-curdling scream. I turned to find Julio wrapped around her arm, and blinking up surprisedly with big liquid black eyes. "Disculpe, Señora, el es mi monito!" I apologised (Excuse me, ma'am, he's my little monkey!), disengaging the trespassing mammal from her limb. I turned several shades of pink and purple and we dissolved into helpless, hysterical laughter. I wanted to leave, but Tito insisted we stay - after all, it's Peru, baby. These things happen.