I figured this time would come eventually, the time when one of my kids would start asking us for a pet. Karma seems to ensure that I get what's coming to me in most parenting issues. I am, after all, the girl who decided she wanted a puppy or kitten of her very own for her 13th birthday and launched a month-long campaign of writing begging letters to my parents. For the record, I didn't get my wish but instead received a telephone for my room and a stuffed animal, much to my furor. Wisely played, Mom and Dad. Yes, I did get over it sooner than later.
That brings me to now, when my middle child has his heart set on a pet. Ben and Paulie prepared birthday lists yesterday. Good thing, since their birthdays are three and five months away, respectively. At the top of Paulie's list: a pet turtle. The kid loves turtles. I suppose it doesn't help that the boys know that my parents did cave sometime in my teenage years and let me have, yes, a pet turtle. A pet turtle that I took care of very, very spottily. Yes, I fed it and all, but let's just say its cage was not so clean. Ben and Paul seem to accept the fact that because of allergies we will never have cats or dogs, that I am vehemently opposed to harboring rodents of any kinds, and that my bird phobia will keep fowls out of our house. However, I think Paul thinks he might be able to sway us on the turtle.
Here's the thing, though: turtles live for a long time. I'm pretty sure I don't want to make that kind of commitment to a reptile. And fish, the one pet I would consider, don't live long at all. Do I really want to explain mortality to my 4-year-old? The plan is to stay strong and keep saying no to an animal invasion. Wish me luck in turning down those big, pleading eyes. Do you think an ant farm would satisfy him? No? I didn't either ...
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