Right now The Boy and I are trying to figure things out. Who goes where. And when. Big changes. For all of you who want to know details! details! details! here’s the plan to date.
Uh … I dunno.
The good news is we’re both on the same page.
So, MP and I are heading to Connecticut next week to stay for a month. There, I’m confident we’ll magically find the answer to all our questions, and come July there WILL be a plan. Rosie will be staying behind with Grammy and Poppy, because a round-trip DOG ticket costs as much now as a round-trip HUMAN ticket.
As for the other “pets,” I don’t know …
When I came back from my April visit, I brought back Sea Monkeys. (As far as MP knows, they’re the state animal.) Now they sit on the kitchen window sill — unbelievably, still alive — totally grossing me out. Contrary to the illustration on the box, they do NOT drive convertibles. The Boy says they’re brine shrimp. What ees this “Brine Shrimp” you speak of, Boy? Those floaty insect-things in that container full of dirty water? THIS is why I don’t do seafood. Shellfish. Nothin’ but BUGS. That hide under rocks. Yech.
MP’s added them to her list of pets. There’s Rosie (the dog), the jar of earthworms (which sat in a closed coffee tin in a hot bathroom for a week. Unbeknown to me, MP was adding water each day “so they had something to drink.” Eventually, the stench was so unbearable, I was convinced there was a massive issue with the septic system. I was two steps from calling a plumber when I discovered the can. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat chicken noodle soup again.), the two ladybugs in her bug house that I’m pretty sure are dead, and now the creepy Sea Monkeys.
Plus, she scored a caterpillar at the zoo the other day. It’s keeping the ladybugs company in the bug house. She took it to school for Show and Tell today. And she insists on sleeping with it at night. I’m crossing my fingers it starts cocooning before it suffers the same fate as its roommates.
I do have to admit, we’re BOTH looking forward to seeing our first lightning bugs. I suspect that somehow, by the end of the trip, a few will be coming home with us.
Dead or alive.