Nic bought himself a hamster on his birthday.
Yesterday I tried to worm my way into its heart by offering it a sweet potato Triscuit as it’s been hissing at me. Of course, it was asleep – so I placed it on its ‘food deck’.
Nic: Are you trying to buy her love?
Nic: Well I’m taking credit for that Triscuit
Me: You’d better tell her that was from me!!!
This thing doesn’t so much ‘hiss’ as manages to get a sound out of its throat that resembles a velociraptor and that croaking thing from The Grudge.
Sort of like this: http://youtu.be/-fzfT4iDGTM
But with more of this thrown in: http://youtu.be/hMvFo4cd02o
It’s name is “Scarlett”.
That isn’t what I named it on the drive home from the pet shop.
I drove Nic’s car so that he could sit on in the passenger seat with the rodent carrier box on his lap.
“Mom! Careful of the bumps!” Really? Really Nic. I drive expertly. Hmph!
His newly acquired pet scratched on the box the entire way home. I lovingly named her Scratchy and wasn’t budging – until yesterday.
Her new name is Satan.
I had my reservations about this new pet. Not because she’s a rodent – I love rodents. I’ve been the proud rodent mom to a long history of rats, mice, hamsters …
***Breaking News – We interrupt this blog entry to announce that a random male laundromat patron has just chosen to sit DIRECTLY behind me in a rogue chair, no less than a foot away! If anything happens to me, he can be found with a blue plastic laundry hamper – and a size 10 flip-flop mark on his forehead if he gets any closer.***
Back to the reservations.
Like most moms, any new pet that crossed our threshold was OH so loved and enjoyed for about a week – and then it magically became mine.
My fish bowls to clean, my fish to feed, my mouse to cedar chip etc. OH! Speaking of cedar chips
You know what? This is useless. I can feel that man … it is really hard to write.
I just got up, had to literally try not to back up into his foot, and went to check on my laundry. It was done – and in a brief moment when he wasn’t looking at me – I snapped this photo. I’m sitting at the red table, with my back to him … you can see the close proximity of his chosen spot.
Seriously guy – it’s a HUGE laundromat! Add to that, he keeps clearing his throat. It’s like having a teacher lean uncomfortable over you during class.
I have 14 minutes remaining on the driers – I shall stand awkwardly staring at the time elapsing until it’s time to go. Because even though I could just MOVE to another table, I don’t want to hurt his feelings! This is how fucked up I am. I can’t even scoot away from a possible predator without thinking about how they might feel about it.