Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Gerballs

I promise that this blog won’t turn into Gerbilland, but you’re going to have to bear with me for a second consecutive post about the gerbils. Or, if you’re Quinn writing in your “thankful book” for school, gerballs.

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Other things in the book? Cats; our asshole dog; and plants, because they give us oxygen. His mother, WHO GAVE HIM LIFE?—didn’t make the cut.

I forgive him though, because one of the things I like best about gerbils is that I think their name is funny. Geeerrr-bullllllll. Somehow Quinn managed to make their name even better.

In case you were wondering, the gerbils are so awesome. They make me laugh really hard. They were doing a lot of sleeping and being otherwise mundane, but then I put an empty macaroni and cheese box in their tank and OH MY GOD THEY ARE DIFFERENT ANIMALS.

That box woke up the funny in them. They spent all evening yesterday romping around and chewing and they have continued to be amusing today, which is fortunate for them because I have sacrificed ten gallons of my desk space so they can entertain me. It was time for them to step up.

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The hay is supposed to help them with their back teeth, but they are just using it to line the inside of their house. I guess that’s okay.
It does concern me that they look like they’re dead when they sleep. It’s because they sleep on their side all flopped over in their house with their tails lolling out the door. I don’t care for that at all. Not to mention that they don’t seem to be afraid of The Hand From The Sky like the mice were, so when I bat at their tails looking for signs of life nothing moves and then I start to panic.

It turns out that they don’t love being violently poked at.

However, when they are groggy because you’ve just woken them up, they will let you hold them and pet them.

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Mouse’s maiden voyage in The Hand From The Sky
I’ve been working at getting the gerbils used to my hand before I started grabbing at them and forcing them to love me. Jetpack and I did some cuddling yesterday, but Mouse was having none of it until today.

Even Alex, who was vehemently anti-gerbil until they started being cute in front of him, wanted to cuddle.

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Like, five seconds later, Mouse pooped in his hand. He’s anti-gerbil again.
I wasn’t sure that I was going to like Jetpack’s name, but I have taken to saying, “You are Jetpaaaack!” to him when he wanders around the tank. It is surprisingly fun to say. You should try it. I mean, it will probably be less fun without a real Jetpack in front of you, but you can try. Also, you have to use kind of a funny voice, but not too cartoony.

No. You’re doing it wrong. Stop. Just…stop.

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You are Jetpaaaack!
 Alex was worried that Mouse might feel left out, but you shouldn’t worry, because I have something I say to him too.

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I say, “Hi, Mouse!”
I know. I’m working on coming up with something better.

I don’t know why it took me so long to get gerbils. They make me so happy. I, too, am thankful for the gerballs.

*****

And no, I didn’t put gerballs on my list, which makes mine way obviously inferior, but I also wrote about some things I am thankful for over at White Knuckle Parenting.

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