I’m walking by carrying a laundry basket full of clothes to be put away. I hate doing laundry. This isn’t relevant to this story. I just wanted to say I hate laundry. Mostly because of how I do it.
So I walk by and Crappy Boy stops me:
I pause. And listen.
Oh. The rat issue.
What is the rat issue? He has been lobbying to get a rat. He’s been lobbying hard.
I’ve used the excuse that we can’t possibly get a rat because we have two cats and the cats might eat the rat. (Which might actually be true. Small Crappy Cat is a serial lizard killer. I find their dismembered bodies littered all over the garage floor.)
But still, I should hear him out. Let him express himself.
Even though I know how this ends. This ends with us NOT getting a rat.
I have nothing against rats. I’ve held pet rats and they’re pretty cool. I just don’t want to take care of a rat. Two cats, a dog, an ugly fish and two ghost shrimps (or is there only one left?) and a handful of sea monkeys. I’m maxed out. We are not adding another living creature whose life I’ll be solely responsible for. I can barely manage to do the laundry!
So I listen to his argument:
His argument is taking forever.
I already know what he is likely going to say. He has used this argument before.
He’ll either say keep the rat in a cage or keep the rat in a separate room.
Why is this taking so long? Why am I so uncomfortable?
Suddenly, I realize how heavy this laundry basket is.
I put it down.
I swear, ten minutes have gone by.
I can’t take this. Especially because no matter what his argument is, there is no way it is going to change my mind.
We’re not getting a rat. Just spit out so I can say no.
I’ve got a 50/50 shot at guessing where he was going with this.
I blurt it out:
He looks angry.
Apparently, I guessed wrong.
I say “Sorry” and tell him to continue.
I sit down on the laundry.
Oh no. He started over. This will never end.
Maybe he is torturing me until I break and say, “FINE. We’ll get a rat.”
I have to be strong.
Ahhhhhhh! Cut to the end! Please!
Uh huh. And that was totally different than what I just said ten minutes ago.
Crappy Update: Crappy Papa spent the day with the boys yesterday. They begged and begged for a rat. But they settled on a SPIDER. A fucking spider. There is a spider in my house. On purpose. It sits there in it’s spider cage on my kitchen counter staring at me and plotting revenge.
I should have said yes to the rat.