What Did I Ask For???

I was once again in the pet store today, checking out hamster goods.

I thought I had ixnayed the whole pet thing when I went into a lengthy conversation about how hard it is for Santa to bring a live animal. "For sure", I thought to myself, "this issue is dead as a door nail."

But, as the month moved forward, and the desire for a hamster didn't wane, I started doing a little backtracking. I even suggested that, if he asked nicely, Santa might even make an exception on the "live animal rule" just for The Babe.

So, today, after I carried a cage across the store (sucker), chose a line (sucker) and started waiting for my turn (sucker), the lady in front of me struck up a conversation.

"Who is the cage for?"

"A hamster my son wants."

She wrinkled up her nose "Your first rodent?"

OK. This was a super nice lady, who obviously cared for her cats as she spent over $125 on them at the register. But reminding me I'm about to bring a RODENT into the house? Not.cool.*

I calmly explained my parents had put up with rodents in the past (gerbils long since gone to gerbil Heaven) and I was carrying on the tradition. And, probably more importantly, I was fulfilling The Babe's one request to Santa when he had his 30 seconds on his lap early this month.

I told her The Babe is six, has promised to take care of the hamster, but that I had a sneaking suspicion, based on the number of times he has helped with the dogs (zero), cat (zero) and fish (another zero), that this would be another animal I would be taking sole care of.

And then my newly found, line co-standing acquaintance made the observation of the holiday: "So, actually, this is YOUR Christmas present."

I swallowed hard, smiled broadly, and responded affirmatively.

What I should have admitted? I.AM.A.SUCKER.

*That hits a little too close to what's under the house and, possibly, in the attic.