It Never Really Ends

(Ralph the mouse)

As usual, I'm just sitting at the computer minding my own business, that's what I do. When I look up from thinking and writing, I notice my daughter Laura talking to her pocket. Those of you how actually know Laura wouldn't be surprised to see a sight like that. Laura often speaks to angels, and if these angels are hiding somewhere in her clothes, hey, she will speak directly to them in public or in private. She doesn't care. This time, it wasn't an angel, per se, it was a little white mouse that was saved (as mice are often saved by my children) from being eaten by a pet snake of one of her friends.

We had snakes for years, and we usaully fed them dead frozen thawed out mice. We fed them mice that we hadn't associated with. The two times we had snakes that ate live mice, we ended up with a great deal of little pets in a few aquariums around Reuben's room. We had 6-8 rats and/or mice at once particular time. I just can't get to know an animal and then feed it. I could buy it, have it put into a bag and then have the kids dump it, but I couldn't do it. If the animal was really clever and began scratching and making noises from inside the bag on the way home - I had a pet!

So, I'm writing, I reading, I'm actually on the phone with Reuben as he gave me play by play details of what he wants to happen at his funeral, should he have one, when Laura comes in and she's talking to her pocket. I didn't ask. I just held out my hand. It was more fun to hold a mouse named Ralph than it was to deal with my son's idea of what a perfect funeral should be like. He did come up with some pretty flashy ideas though; he does that....and then dumps the work on me. It's been going on for years really. I learned about most of his homework just hours before it was due.

Ralph was found by Laura, kidnapped, and brought home. Out there in the big bad world of our city is a very hungry snake, just wondering what happened to his fat little dinner that wiggled just so. Well Mr. Spot-back, he's in my house! He's eating puppy chow drowned in soy milk, and he's being loved, hugged, petted, and sang to...that's where your meal is tonight mister! Slither away - beast! I do actually like snakes, and in this case I feel sorry for him because he's not been trained to eat frozens, and so he's probably feeling a bit cheated. Poor little python....not, he can learn!

When I think about, this sort of thing was just another reason why I gave the kids their own place. Why is this happening to me? Maybe next time the lease is up I'll get a place a bit further away - instead of next door.