The morning after

The morning after the snake proposal, Critter and I were alone in the livingroom. No one else was up, yet. She looked at me, I looked away, and started cleaning the kitchen.

“You know we’re going to say ‘no,’ right?” I said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied equally softly. “Why?”

I thought a moment. A million rational reasons went through my head, as they had the night before when Critter made her dissertation on Why We Should Host the Science Snake for the Summer. Like who was going to clean the mice cage? Who would clean the snake cage? What would we do with the animals while we were on vacations? How could we keep the cats away from the mice and snake? What about the smell?

And even as I formulated my oh-so-logical and completely-calm-and-rational arguments against the proposal, I knew I wouldn’t say any of them. What I DID say was:

“I could sit here and give you a whole list of rational reasons why we can’t have the snake over the summer, but there’s really only one reason that matters: JewelGeek and I don’t like snakes, and we won’t have one in our house.”

“But,” Critter began weakly.

“It’s not a situation you’re going to be able to change, Sweetie,” I said seriously. “We simply don’t like snakes. It’s not rational, but it’s real.”

Critter closed her mouth and nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t even argue. And when JewelGeek got up, Critter didn’t say a word or bring up the snake again. It's not like her to stop fighting, especially if she knows we don't want any part of it. This time, she let us win.

What a great Mother's Day present.