Hand it to the husband for taking care of a nagging 10-year-old.
Lauren’s been begging for a bunny for, oh, years now. The whining has ramped up since the neighbor girl got a bunny.
I refuse to get one because I remember my niece’s bunny which pretty much just sat in the cage and pooped and smelled for years. If you picked it up, it would run away and/or scratch you. Truth is: I never wanted to pick it up anyway because it’s paws were always full of rabbit turds.
I cannot handle the responsibility of one more living thing (she assures me, of course, that SHE will take complete care of it…but we all know how that goes, right?).
Also we have a dog who thinks his mission is life is to rid the yard of small animals and birds, so…he’s not going to take kindly to a critter hopping around his own home.
Suffice to say, I don’t want a rabbit. Last night, I actually said to her: No matter how much you beg…how many times you ask…the answer to “can I have a bunny?” will always be “NO!”
Then this morning, this conversation happens (at 6:05 a.m.).
Lauren: I hate to tell you this mom, but Dad and I made an agreement last night and you’re not going to like it.
Me: Oh, yeah.
Lauren: Yeah. He said if I didn’t yell or fight with Kelly or talk back for a year, he’d buy me a bunny.
Me: Did he?
Me: A year, huh?
Lauren: Yep and, today at school, I’m going to draw up a contract and I’m going to make three copies so we can all sign it. I’m not getting screwed out of my bunny this time.
Me: (nodding thoughtfully) Nope you’re not getting screwed at all.
Score one for the parents for setting the bar so high it’s out of reach.
(Hell, if she could make it a WEEK without arguing with her sister or talking back, I’d buy her a dang bunny.)