Another one bites the dust

CJ is desperate for a pet.

When he sees a dog at the park, a cat sitting in the window, or a cute squirrel, he invariably tugs on my sleeve and whines, “Mommy! I want to get a PET!”

It seems that Bumpy and Harry (the only two survivors of our own personal Fish Cemetery) aren’t cuddly enough. Go figure.

So last night we are hanging out at home and CJ finds a tiny spider making its way across the living room rug.

Unaware of the looming danger, it busily goes about its business… until CJ swoops down with his stubby fingers to not-so-delicately lift it into a cardboard box.

Proudly, he announces, “Mom! Dad! Look… I got a spider!”

“I think you killed it.” Jay tells him.

“NO I DIDN’T!!!” CJ shouts emphatically. And sure enough, there’s a little wiggle left in our eight seven-legged friend. At least for now.

“Well you definitely broke its leg. See how he’s dragging it funny?” Jay points out.

To which I respond by shooting Jay the old stink-eye. Why ruin a perfectly entertaining activity by pointing out this sad fact? If CJ believes that his special new friend is in excellent health, then who are WE to tell him otherwise?!

Fortunately, CJ doesn’t seem phased by Jay’s gloomy health update. He happily spends the evening constructing a home for his new spider friend using marbles and rocks and wooden blocks, bits of cardboard boxes, and a leftover tea-light candle.

After a while, I leave the room to check my email. When I come out, CJ tells me, “Mommy, my pet spider is sleeping.”

From behind him, Jay gestures wildly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I get the feeling that the spider is definitely NOT sleeping.

When CJ turns his head, Jay whispers to me, “The spider is DEAD as a DOORNAIL. CJ keeps pinching him between his fingers when he picks him up.”

But CJ is blissfully unaware of his best pal’s untimely demise. “I will name him… SLEEPY.” He tells me, “Because he is SO sleepy.” He giggles, “He sleeps ALL THE TIME!”

Right.

Ten more minutes go by, and CJ is getting bored… and tired. This is a dangerous time of the night for everyone involved. His actions become unpredictable… erratic… violent.

Suddenly, in a fit of rage, he crumples the spider’s dead body between his fingers.

“I’m wrecking my spider.” he announces, teeth gritted. “He’s coming all apart.”

He pauses, looking at his handiwork, and his evil smirk is replaced by a look for horror.

“Ohhh!” he moans, “Now I don’t have a PET!” and he hangs his head sadly.

And so we have decided that now is NOT a good time to get CJ a dog. Or a cat. Or a rabbit. Or even a pet squirrel. Basically, if it’s furry and fuzzy and eats and poops… WE ARE NOT GETTING IT.

End of story.

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Thanks for all the excellent feedback on my Big Idea. Look for Hot Mamas Know coming SOON!!

And, a huge thank you to Chris for nominating this post for the Oct. Perfect Post award. I am honored, seriously!

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