The Post in Which I Reveal My Inherent Evilness

First before we begin my tale of inherent wickedness, let's discuss the above photo taken 2 years ago...When did this child suddenly start to go from the above to THIS?


Wednesday night was like any other Wednesday around this place. I got home about 8:30 after choir practice. I pulled into our driveway, and saw Studmuffin at the kitchen sink. "Oh, he's washing dishes. How sweet! Makes my heart go quiver..."

I pulled on into the garage, and he met me at my door. He had a very sly smile on his face. "Oh, now I understand!" my inner dialogue continued..."He's filling up my love tank and making sure I see all that he has done...I suppose I may reward him. Even though I didn't get a nap today." (Just keepin' it real, people)

I open my door. "What's up?"

"We've had a death in the family..."

Sadly, Gentle Reader, I immediately understood what he meant. I let out a whoop of joy and sang a little song, "Ding dong the gerbil's dead! The stinky gerbil's dead!"

Okay. Maybe that part didn't really happen, but it might as well have Gentle Reader...It might as well have.

"What did Bookworm say? Was she devastated?"

"I haven't told her. I was putting her in bed and said, 'So, is that rat dead yet?' Then, I turned around and saw Ava belly up in her cage. I picked it up and started carrying the cage out and Bookworm said, 'Oh! Thanks for cleaning my cage, Daddy!' The cage is on the dining room floor right now."

"You have to tell her!"

"No! She will have a total meltdown! I'm cleaning out the cage, getting rid of the gerbil, and I'll tell her in the morning."

Well, Gentle Reader, I convinced him of the wisdom of telling her that evening, even if it was late, so we could get the drama over with at night instead of just before climbing on the bus...

And was there drama!!!

Drramaaaaa llama!

Weeping.

Wailing.

Gnashing of teeth.

I cuddled. I stroked her hair. I felt horrible that she was so sad that the darn rat was dead...

Because at the same time that I was singing the Hallelujah chorus in my head that I never had to listen to that darn gerbil chewing at night. And running on it's wheel... All. Night. Long....

Aaaand I cuddled some more...

"Mommy? I think we need to bury Ava."

Crud...."Really? Where?" *Sigh* This is ridiculous...

"In the garden! She will decompose and turn into humus and that is great for the soil!"

I burst into laughter...She started laughing....

"Baby, I'm sorry, but I'm NOT burying Ava in the garden. Ick. I just can't think of decomposing gerbil under my tomato plants!"

She agreed with me, and we decided to send her daddy out in the dark to bury the gerbil under a tree...

And we kissed goodnight.

I went to the living room and discovered that I had forgotten to dvr Survivor.

I wept.

I wailed.

I gnashed my teeth...

Then I remembered I could watch it online the next night, and so I was over it. I sat down to see what else there was to see....

And I heard more wailing....

Okay. Have I ever told you that if you want sympathy, you really shouldn't have a nurse for a mommy? Just ask my kids...

Because. Seriously. It's a rodent, people...And, as much as I love my daughter, I understand her love of drama. And her love of total emotional exaggeration. There is the teeniest tiniest possibility that it could come from my side of the family...But just a tiny chance, mind you...

I went to her room. I handed her "By the Shores of Silver Lake" by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I said, "Read this. Get your mind off of the gerbil. Go to sleep."

And I thought that was that....

Until we had a ladies' tea at church Thursday and one of her teachers asked if we had a funeral for the gerbil...

"How do you know about that?"

"Oh, she had a total meltdown in class about it today..."

Great.

Apparently, it went something like this, "My gerbil died last night....I didn't get any sleep...I'm tired and I can't stop thinking about it."

Such drama.

It. Is. Exhausting.

Being dramatic, that is.

Not that I know anything about that....