Pet Peeves

So for about five minutes last night I considered getting Madison a hamster for her upcoming 5th birthday.  There was the pics of a fluffy little ball of fur with eyes staring at me, the thought of how excited she would be, I could be SuperMom.  Only one thing stopped me.  Poop.  Is it really too much to want a pet that does not defecate?  Or shed?  Or expect me to remember to feed or water it every day?  The kids are still alive, isn't that enough?

Part of parenting is allowing the kids to have pets to learn to how to care and be responsible for another life.  In my pretend life where I don't have kids or stained carpets, I don't have shedding, defecating pets either.  I am thin and I own an airbrush that magically makes any problem areas on my body disappear.  And I live right in the middle of the ocean on my own island.  I look good in those big oversized, bug eyed, Kim Kardashian inspired designer sunglasses.  I wear white all the time, unstained white.  Back to reality.

Pets.  Ugh, seriously though...every parent's nightmare.  I reflect back to when we had a beta fish.  Appropriately named Poop.  (Hey my daughter was two, you pick your battles).  We nicknamed him Apple (her second choice).  For a fish that just floats around in a bowl of water all day, he was pretty demanding.  He wanted to be fed, have his water changed, not be dropped on the ground.  It got kind of outrageous.  I would just clean his bowl and try to be a good parent by asking Madison to help me feed the fish and next thing I know she would have the ENTIRE bottle of fish food dumped into his bowl.  And through that bowl of fish food, I swear Poop was giving me the evil eye. 

Katie (previously referred to as my best friend) once had a fish too.  Her story turned out to be a little bit more tragic than mine.  Her daughter got a fish for a birthday present from one of Katie's friends (friends do not do this to true friends!!).  Now Katie is a single mom, living up in the projects (or as close to the projects as you can get in Adams), with a lot on her shoulders.  She apparently thought the fish needed some sunshine...okay I can't lie...the water needed to be changed so it stunk really bad but her couch was calling so she stuck the fish outside and decided to change the water later.  It was a hot day.  The fish was on the ledge of her balcony in the direct sunlight.  Long story short, the fish, Cessia (she too allowed her daughter to name the fish), went to heaven.  Give us some credit for our kids surviving this long.

Just last night we put our dog outside to relieve himself.  When I was getting ready for bed around 11pm I heard a scratch at the downstairs bedroom window.  Oh, Dakota, I forgot we had a dog.  I would hope that if one of the kids were missing I would notice within at least an hour.  I am pretty sure he had been outside for 2.5 hours.  Just the other day we were driving down the road to go to Watertown and we passed the dog on the side of the road, running home from an apparent trip around the block.  No one even realized he was missing.  Twice in a week.  We. Are. Awesome.

On second thought, I bet Madison would like a nice immobile, undefecating, needless stuffed animal for her birthday.