A pet

I have made short sighted statements in the past regarding our lack of pets. I hope to keep us pet-free because I just don’t want to deal with the maintenance of a pet right now. Two children under the age of five is enough work for me thankyouverymuch. I’m still not completely over the loss of our dog several years ago, and honestly don’t want to start another relationship with an animal that could end badly. The Boy, on the other hand, is full of life and love for nature. He comes home from daycare or preschool almost every day with a new idea for a proposed pet. A few weeks ago he asked me if he could have snails. I said NO before he had time to finish his sentence. He sobbed uncontrollably for a long time.

A few days after the snail question he came home from daycare with a glass jar filled with a few ants. Um, okay. We told him that the ants needed to live outside so they got some fresh air. He agreed. The ants were dead by morning. A few days later he came home with even more ants, and insisted that they had to live inside our house or they would die outside in the cold. We relented, how could we punish his ants to death knowingly? The ants were dead by the middle of the next day. The Boy is undeterred by the death of his much loved pets; he keeps trying to catch more bugs.

In a lack of reasoning I offered to help him get tadpoles from the pond when it gets warm enough. He received a bug/frog habitat for his birthday last year, and I told him it could serve as a home for his tadpoles. He was very excited about the prospect of having many frogs as pets; until I told him that we would have to let the frogs go when they emerged (I’m not really counting on frogs emerging given how much The Boy likes to alter the not-so-natural environment they would live in). He was still happy about the idea that he would get a pet though so I thought we had dodged a bullet.

Apparently I was wrong about dodging the bullet though. Upon my arrival to pick the kids up from daycare yesterday I was TOLD that The Boy (by The Boy) was bringing home FIVE snails. He held them up, in their sad little Dixie cup filled with water, so I could see them. I said NO. He threw a fit of epic proportions. He hit me, he pushed me, he tried to kick me. I put him in a time-out, and hoped that he would calm down. He did not. I ended up getting The Girl ready to go home and then physically forcing The Boy to leave with us. He sobbed uncontrollably until we got close to home. I managed to make him laugh, apparently all was forgiven.

I have a feeling that this story isn’t really over. Any guesses as to what the next pet will be?