DS3, out of the blue at dinner: I wish every time we breathed out we would breathe out a donut.
um, ok.
Right now I am actively resisting the urge to play on a stereotype with a comment about his preferred career choice “when I grow up” as it relates to this comment.
After the Bitsey episode, DH and I decided we would get the boys a dog. Someday. Someday sort of soonish. That was June and it wasn’t feasible then as we had too much travel planned for the rest of the year. Plus, we wanted to have lots of time to drive home the idea (to the extent possible, at least) that pets require care and that if they wanted the dog then they would need to agree to take care of it.
All the boys birthday are in January so that was sort of the unofficial “maybe that would be a good time” safe future date. Just before their birthdays, DH decided that he didn’t think they were ready, after all. Of course, by this time I may have made a mention or two about it. So I found myself scrambling for gifts then since the dog wasn’t going to be it. This resulted in a trip to amazon.com where I came across Sea Monkeys. Now, I already know that DS3 is the only one I can reasonably assume will still be reliably caring for the hypothetical future dog after the novelty wears off. (Which will take approximately 15 minutes for DS2. DS1 has already stated he doesn’t want a dog because he’s not interested in looking after it at all.)
So, DS3 gets Sea Monkeys for his birthday. I tell him he can take care of these till he’s ready for a dog. At first he was most unimpressed but gradually decided the sea monkeys were sort of cool.
Fast forward to last night. The boys check the Sea Monkeys and announce they need to be fed. Afterwards, they are all crowding around the very small sea monkey “aquarium” (I use the term loosely) watching them zipping up and down getting food. I hear DS2 say “I’m just going to put this in the aquarium”. I see that he’s got some scrap of something ready to drop in. So I tell him we don’t put anything but their food in. DS1 chimes in with “yeah, or they’ll eat it and die”.
As I’m walking away I hear DS3 mutter in a dramatic and exasperated fashion “Yeah. And then we’ll *never* get a dog.”
