In that lake there live a number of turtles, absolutely darling little things who defy gravity in my mind by swimming with little flexibility.
One of these little guys (or girls?) crawled out within arm's reach of one of the kids. Far more entertaining than catching a cup full of minnows, the kids decided to keep it.
"We need to build a habitat for it," I heard my son exclaim.
At this point it looked like our home was destined to be host to the hard-backed creature. I could not let this happen, we have 4 kids, a dog and countless plants and bird feeders that need daily attention. Not to mention instruments to practice, bikes to ride, and books to read. Caring for a turtle was not fitting into my day, or theirs.
"Turtle already has a habitat," I said. "Put him back in it."
"You're not any fun," my
"I know. I'm not." It was a hard, cold fact. I am not fun. I am the ruler of rules, from brushing teeth to eating vegetables. I am the homework horse and the cleaning czar. I am not any fun, and I did not care to subject yet another living being to my torture of no fun.
Eventually they caved after a lecture about the morality of turtle-napping. Little guy has no idea how lucky he is.
I'm so mean.