You may all be aware that I kinda like little rodents. Turns out that the small, blond apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Quinn loves them too. Every once in a while we’ll go to Petco and visit all the little animals. It’s like a trip to the zoo without all the walking.
Much as I always try to get Quinn to love the gerbils, he loves the mice more than anything. He will stand in front of their cage for as long as I will let him and he will giggle, giggle, giggle for the entire time.
I’d lost all hope of ever having rodents because Alex is a great big buzz kill. But somehow, Quinn’s enthusiasm got to him and he agreed that we could get some mice. Now, I know there is a segment of you that will be all, “MICE??!! What about the gerbils? For the love of God, they’re in your tagline!”
To you, I will simply ask that you revisit paragraph two above.
Well, today was Quinn’s birthday, which brings us to Operation: Mouse. We revealed to the children that we were going to buy them mice, but before we could go pick them up, we had to go to Jack’s social skills group, which was held at a park today. It went great until after group, when our kids hightailed it down to the little nearby creek. Jack waded in, sneakers and all, while Sam jumped in and promptly lost one flip flop. Afraid that we couldn’t take two barefoot children to the pet store, we searched and searched for the flip flop.
I think you know Team Stimey well enough by now though to know that we don’t give up that easy. Jack wore wet shoes and Alex lent Sam his socks so it looked like he was wearing something on his feet. Then we headed on into the pet store.
We were greeted by an employee who looked like he was ten years old and who told us that he couldn’t tell the difference between boy mice and girl mice, which was a problem, because we do not want to be the eventual owners of 86 mice. Fortunately, we were rescued by another employee who could tell the difference, or at least could pretend to tell the difference.
Each of us picked out a mouse, including Alex, previously known as Mr. I Hate Anything Small, Cute, and Snuggly.
When we got home, we spent, oh, I’d say about an hour watching the wee little ones explore their new home. Even Alex watched for a while.
I don’t have an individual photo of Sam’s black curly-haired mouse. (When they first showed it to us, I was all, “Uh oh, this one has the mange,” and the lady said, “No, she just has curly fur.” I sure know how to make a good impression.) See, Poseidon, as she is named, is the scaredy-mouse of the group. I spent a long time today worried that she was dead because I hadn’t seen her for a long time. Turns out she was just hiding in the house under a whole lot of paper shavings.
Here is Jack’s mouse, Scabbers:
Quinn’s mouse is the shiny, black one. Her name is Squeaky. Alex has the black and white one and named her Whiskers.
My mouse is gray and white. I named her Gerbil. For y’all.
Gerbil is the piggiest of the group. Every time I see her, she’s rooting around in the food bowl. I think she’ll be happy here.
Prepare yourselves for some extensive mouse photography. Especially once I deem them settled in enough to to let my kids handle them. Then you can prepare yourselves for extensive photography of the ensuing mouse hunt after one of them gets away.