Now, if this were my daughter as she used to do similarly for Hony her pet mouse and BFFoFL (best friend forever, on four-legs) Id think it was sweet. But alas its not, so Im afraid I have to report it to Bill Doherty PhD for the internationally recognized Birthdays Without Pressure initiative, started to stop the first-world problem of Who can hold the most ostentatious and spoiled-child producing party. ;) Full Disclosure: I admit we planned a funeral for Hony. My mom created a velvet covered coffin for Hony after she was brutally killed in a forgotten mouse trap. Remember Rebecca & Hannah Rust? Because my daughter (and I, nearly) was so traumatized, I dont think we ever got around to the official burial. Best I could get her to do was art therapy. Believe Hony still is being preserved in my parents game freezer with assorted murdered ducks, geese and other unidentifiable frozen souls my Dad brings home. But we DID hold a funeral for Snowflake, my sons mouse. Complete with processional and hymns. How Great Thou Art (of course!) and Amazing Grace before her burial in the shade under the Maple in our side yard. Friends did come to pay their respects. OK, only a couple of neighbor kids. But enough to send her to heaven with love. The least we could do, really, since Id neglected to realize white bedding for a white mouse might make keeping track of her hard. We thought shed escaped and was happily living with her wild cousins. Hey! It was plausible. She was -- quite the opposite of sweet Hony -- a tiny hell-on-wheels--always hogging the exercise wheel, no less.... Note: We did NOT provide a send off for the snake my daughter and her friend Becca caught after an adventure-filled afternoon in our garage. But they DID receive a well-earned Certificate of Commendation for their uncommon commitment and courage. Finally, since Im confessing here how silly my own parenting has been. We DID nurture many a broken-winged bird, baby bunny, turtles of all sizes, frogs, insects, crysallises, etc. and, each spring baby ducks (to replace the ones my Dad, bro & son murder). Each and all who survived (surprisingly most) was released to their natural habitat when they seemed big and strong enough, serenaded off with Born Free. Many of the ducks would linger a bit while the kids would try to swim them out to deeper waters. A few came back. One literally wouldnt leave--hed literally come back into his cage...)
Posted on: Sat, 19 Jul 2014 20:17:42 +0000
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