Thursday, May 10, 2007

The Pet No. 3

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I knew that remaining calm worked best in these situations and even though I wanted to scream “get that thing out of here,” or drop kick it out the front door myself, I had to get Jonah on board with the idea that bugs belonged outside. In fact, the “bugs stay outside” lesson was probably one of the top 3 most important childhood lessons a mother should teach her son. It would rank somewhere just behind “don’t hide your dirty underwear under the bathroom sink” and “stuffing banana peels between the couch cushions doesn’t hide the fact that you were eating in the family room.”

“That bug likes to live under a rock and it eats little things in the dirt. It won’t be able to live inside the house.” I knew that logic was not likely to work with Jonah. He was my right-brained child and very emotional.

“I’ll just get a rock and some dirt and bring that in the house for the ball bug,” Jonah offered, “then it will be happy.”

“No, the bug won’t be happy,” I assured him. “How would you feel if some big giant came and picked you up and took you to his house and stuck you in the top drawer of his dresser? How would you feel if he put you in a box with a lid so you couldn’t get out and then shook it up so that you rolled around inside?” Surely Jonah could relate with this scene and would have a little compassion on his captive pet. Just to reinforce the idea, I grabbed Jonah playfully around the waist and galloped around the room bouncing him up and down. I swung him upside down and tossed him onto his bed.

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