Sunday night, and the class guinea pig returns to school tomorrow - still in one piece, as I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. I'm sure some of you have tuned in this morning expecting a different outcome, so I'm sorry to disappoint. It was touch and go for a bit tho' when we discovered that the cat could stick it's paw (& claws) through the bars of this cage. We are used to smaller rodents, with less space between the bars, and therefore the cat can usually only glower and drool. I say "cat" singular, because the other three lazy bastards wouldn't know a rodent if it fell on their head. Only the one cat shows an interest, but unfortunately even he draws the line at mice.
My more immediate concern is how my husband has reacted to our weekend guest. As soon as Grady arrived home from school on Friday afternoon, he announced he was taking Becky out. Alarm bells go off, and I immediately grab my husband in a panic. "What the hell is he talking about ? He's only ten. Who is Becky and where does he plan on taking her?" Fortunately, as it turns out, Becky was the guinea pig, (who on earth names a guinea pig Becky, I'd like to know?). A little while later Rob calls me to come and look at my son, who is lying on the floor, the guinea pig perched serenely on his chest, chirping as he is grooming her. "Isn't that sweet ?" whispers my husband, as I eye him suspiciously. I can feel a definite disturbance in the force, something is not right. By Friday evening, Rob is dropping innocent one liners "That guinea pig is quite cute" and "I'm surprised the guinea pig doesn't smell" and by bedtime he is actually talking about getting a guinea pig once the rest of the hamsters have kicked off.
Now I like the guinea pig and all, in fact I used to have one when I was Grady's age (also a class pet that I ended up with. So that is where it all began !) but we have clearly defined roles in this house. Mine is to want a new pet, beg and plead and generally kick up a fuss until I get it, and Rob's role is to keep saying no until I wear him down. We have been doing it that way for years, and it works. For him to suddenly turn around and suggest bringing an animal into the house concerns me. My first thought, is that he got a kick to the head when he was riding, but he insisted not, he just liked the guinea pig. Okay fine, I'll play along for now.
The next thing I know, as I am trying to read this afternoon (usually an open invitation for the family to bug me on mass) he starts on about the guinea pig again, only this time he has upped the ante. "Guinea Pigs are social animals aren't they ?" he begins. "Yes" I reply cautiously, not liking where this conversation is going. He continues "So if we get two, they could go in a cage together?" Where the hell did this come from ? I'm back to my "kicked in the head" theory again. But he hasn't finished. "I was thinking about where we could keep them, and I thought I could build a stand for their cage". It's worse than I thought, far worse. Once he starts planning on building things it means he is deadly serious. "Where were you thinking of putting this stand ?" I asked. "Right over there" he said pointing at the wall, "We'll just get rid of your bookshelves". Now he has gone too far, he really has lost the plot. Over my cold dead body, is he moving my bookshelves for the sake of a guinea pig cage. I will get rid of my children (and now definitely my husband) before I get rid of my books. It is going to be interesting to see how this one plays out. I must not forget to give Grady's teacher a really big "thank-you" when I see her next.
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