Most people give stickers or lots of praise for a reward. Brian promises things that poop.
Have I ever mentioned we already have three dogs, a cat and two children in our home?
I also have a fear of small rodents. One of my teachers had several fancy rats she raised in the classroom. We held and played with the rats everyday and they were good natured and maybe even a little cute. But, they were big enough to look like small dogs and that helped. Something about the smaller versions make me jumpy, though.
I tried to figure out why and, as I thought through my history with small rodents, my recollection is as follows...
In 6th grade, my friend, Susie, had white mice she used for a science fair. After that ended, she kept the mice as pets and I remember one of those "pets" taking a chunk out of her finger one day. Horrifying.
In college, one of my roommates owned a ball python. Clyde's diet was small white mice. We used to sit and watch each doomed mouse in its last seconds of life. Terrifying.
Lastly, do the words "bubonic plague" mean anything to you?
I'm two for two on questionable experiences with small rodents and I hope to never experience the last.
So, I put my foot down that there was no way we were adding more animals to our family. Only the kind that gestate for nine months and then wear diapers for two and a half.
Someday, I will learn that putting my foot down does not work when I'm outnumbered three to one.
Meet Chubby Cheeks (darker fur) and Mississippi.
Mississippi is literally into her food here. In fact, she is "fluffier" than "Chubby" Cheeks. Girlfriend (please, God, let them both really be girls) likes to eat!
Incidentally, that is the only picture we'll ever have of the end of her tail. Did you know that if you pick up a gerbil by the tip of its tail, it can come off, leaving only bloody bone behind? Petrifying.
I learned the term "de-glove" that night and now I've had three less than pleasant experiences with small rodents.
In a moment of weakness/accepted defeat one day, I saw online that someone was giving away two gerbils and all their fixins and I bit. I figured that this thing was happening one way or another and that at least these were a free trial offer. Before bedtime that evening, Brian went to pick up the two newest members of our family and, I have to admit, the boys' reaction was priceless.
Please note T's question at the 38 second mark because it would come back to haunt us.
Mississippi was named by Tyler about one minute after meeting her. I guess when you know, you know. This is the same boy who told everyone we were naming our baby girl "Nofeet." We still cannot figure out how or where he heard Mississippi, but it is making me have to stop and think every time I try to spell it out here. Just another reason I'm glad I live in Texas. Chubby Cheeks was named the next day or two and she is Noah's.
That evening, we repeated over and over how important it is to keep the lid on the aquarium and never, never, never open it without parental assistance. In fact, at the 3:45 mark, notice to whom I direct my first warnings.
You are laughing at us, aren't you?
'Cause you already know what we were chasing around the living room the very next morning.
It seems Tyler opened a small hatch in the lid and forgot to close it. It was a good fifteen minutes of moving the couch back and forth (I am over five months pregnant and not so spry) before we finally grabbed the broom and scared Chubby Cheeks out. Girlfriend (please, God, let them both really be girls) is fast!
Three nights later, Tyler came to our room and we sent him back. I heard him rummaging around for awhile before I got up to see what he was doing.
Guess what we were chasing around the boys' room by 5:20 that morning?
Somehow, I was given the job of being at the catching end while Brian tried to scare Chubby Cheeks out from behind the bookshelf. The boys were given the job of STAY OUT OF THE WAY. I held onto a pillowcase as, time and time again, Brian tried to scare it my way.
My way.
Apparently, chivalry got a touch of the plague because IT IS DEAD in our home.
TWO TIMES that thing scampered across my foot as it tried to get away.
And, TWO TIMES I shrieked and jumped as I tried to get away.
Have I mentioned I am FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS pregnant?!
And those three stinkers LAUGHED AT ME.
All this capitalization should give you some indication of the state of my blood pressure that night as we tried to return C.C. to her cage.
Anyway, after several unsuccessful attempts and after at least 20 minutes of insanity, I finally trapped C.C. in the pillowcase and
I think Chubby Cheeks and I both deserve massages after that fiasco. A girl does love a good massage.
(Please, God, let them both really be girls).
1 comment:
girl, you are crazy! you make me laugh--hearing the fear in your voice as you lovingly give these creatures to your kids....you're braver than me!
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