We have some Thanksgiving houseguests:
You can only see one of them here, but there are in fact two gerbils. We get to keep them for the whole weekend. They belong to my friend H’s daughter A. When H asked me to keep them, I think she thought I was doing her a favor. Oh no. It is she who is doing us the favor. All the fun of gerbils? Without the long-term responsibility? Awesome!
There was a very sad scene when we took the little dudes at the end of school today. A was heartbroken and started crying when she left because she’s going to miss them so much. Jack was delighted, especially when he got to put his show and tell in the cage for them to eat.
(I am such an awesome mom that I sent him to school with an empty toilet paper roll for show and tell. When he got out of the car holding it and using it as a telescope and I realized that I’d forgotten about show and tell, he was good enough to accept it as a good item to take. Later when I asked him what he’d told the class about it he said, “I said, ‘I don’t know.'” Best Mom Ever. Yet again.)
The kid I babysit a couple times a week—well, it’s more of a chauffering position as I mostly just drive him from my house to school and then on to his mom’s work—took the opportunity to tell me that he’d had gerbils for dessert last night. He told me that there is a kind of candy called gerbils. Yeah, there’s an entree called “squirrel” too, but not at my house.
I was planning on bringing the gerbils home and putting my OED on top of the cage to prevent little hands and/or paws from opening it, but it turns out that my kitchen was built exactly for this type of animal enclosure. The space from my counter to my cabinets is about a half inch taller than the cage. We were clearly meant to take care of these little guys
Of course the uneven space at the top of the cage leads me to believe that either my counter or the cabinets are not straight as they should be. (That half inch is an average.)
So, A, the gerbils are safe and happy. And protected from cat, dog, and Jack harm.