Alternatively Titled: “You Have To Try to Pass Along the Crazy When Your Kids Are Young, Or You Run the Risk That It’s Not Going to Stick.”
Are you talking to me? ‘Cause I’m the only one here.
My friend Heather lent me her gerbils for a few days. She brought them over today, along with some cookies. It’s like she thinks I’m doing her a favor by petsitting. I’m not sure she understands quite how pathological I am in my adoration of these little guys. If you haven’t noticed, I am highly amused by them.
Screw you, tadpoles! I have cuter animals to take care of!
As soon as Heather left my house, I took out my camera to document the gerbils’ arrival. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like a sickness. It’s just so much fun to take their photos. Does it make me sound crazier if I tell you that I think they like it? Because I think they do.
They especially seem to like flash photography. They’re media whores.
But here’s the thing. Guess who asked to get out his DSi to take a photo of the gerbils so he could have one for himself?
Yes. My first born.
Furthermore, Sam made a Christmas tree for them so that they could celebrate the season.
Sam was inspired by the other art taped to the back of their cage. Heather’s daughters made the three pictures there. They, in turn, seem to have been inspired by Jack’s “Home Sweet Home” sign that he made for the gerbils the last time they were here.
To her credit, Heather has left the little sign up.
Probably mostly because she knows that you don’t fuck around with a crazy person, but still, I think it’s nice.
So does whatever this guy’s name is:
I can’t tell them apart. Is that bad? I do know one is fatter than the other, but I don’t remember which. I think that the surly one up top is the fat one. Which seems weird, because I know fat people are jolly, so don’t you think fat gerbils would be as well?
Anyway. Strap in. I’ve got these guys until 2010.