The things we agree to do for our children...
Since I succumbed to the puppy dog eyes (of my son, not the hamster) and the PLEEAASE MOM! I told his teacher we'd take the stupid rodent for the weekend. As long as I had detailed instructions.
I turn up this morning to get him because his teacher is gone by the time I get there. She shoves the cage and some food at me and says, "We just feed him every 3 days..." Then I was shoed along out.
Here's where it gets interesting. On the way to the car, kids say things to me like, "Hey, there's Little Luke." "Little Luke is still alive." "Look, there's Thunder!"
I'm intrigued. So I question Bruce, but he can't account for this.
While putting Chubby in the car, a loquacious fifth grader begins chatting me up. I ask her about the multiple names. "Oh, he gets a new name every year." "Oh, OK," I answer. She keeps talking, but
Chubby has been spending the day in my office, as I couldn't get home to drop him off. Co-workers think he's cute and that it's totally uncharacteristic of me to volunteer to be around a rodent. They're right.
I informed them of the nightmare that could unfold this weekend. I've got a freaking geriatric hamster in my care. Look! He's at the end of his natural life-span!!!! My house is borders on institution crazy every day. One normal day of dog barking, TV blaring, toddler poking and this guy will be running on the hamster wheel in the sky. I just know it... One more blast to his little, world weary ticker....
And how would I break that to his teacher and the rest of the kids? It's a Christian school so would they have a "hamster funeral?" That's a can of worms I'd rather not open.
What am I doing? I'm going to PetCo to arrange for a Chubby switch-a-roo if needed. Don't EVEN think I won't. I took photos for this express purpose.