Monday, August 27, 2007
This is Quincy. How I love him, let me count the ways. He is a TURKEY who knocks on my door at 6:45 in the morning sometimes just to say "hi" before school, he "conveniently" loses the key to his house when we're having family movie night, he calls himself by our last name and today, introduced my father-in-law as his "grandfather", he rearranges and redecorates my house because "It's plain" and, he brings pets. Six weeks ago, he arrived at my house less than twelve hours before leaving for camp for a week with a lizard, a snake, and mouse.
Hmmm. Let's see.
"Quincy, who's going to take care of these while you're gone?"
"Could they just stay here until I get back? They're my pets and my momma won't let me keep them at the house."
"OK, Quince. ONE week."
Well, the lizard was set free that night.
The cat in the picture, Max, he ate the snake the second night.
The mouse, however, survived. It was a precious little baby mouse that my kids could hold and feed and it stayed in it's little box presumably, happy as could be.
Not so happy.
After about three days, it bit my child. Then it bit me. Then it escaped. IN MY HOUSE.
OK, an unfortunate event but I have a cat so OBVIOUSLY, the mouse didn't have a very long life expectancy.
That was six weeks ago.
The other morning, I saw movement in my pantry. It was the mouse. He was eating a roast beef sandwich with au jus and smoking a cigar. Happy as could be.
Quincy asked if we would catch him alive because, "He IS my pet."