I grew up with cats. I know cats, I freaking love cats. To me, they’ll always be the perfect pet (until the apocalypse, at which point I plan on training some type of rhino).
Unfortunately, my wife is rather allergic to them, which left me with a choice.
Cat or wife. Wife or cat. Would’ve been easier before I had kids, but let’s just assume that no matter what, I would have chosen my wife. You know, the one that doesn’t purr.
I’ve accept my cat-less lot in life and have tried to live my life as best I can, without a furry companion. My kids however, see things differently. They really, really wanted a pet and wanted to know what they could have.
First, I bought myself some time by using the ol’ “pets are a big responsibility, so you have to show Mommy and I how responsible you can be”. That got us about a month’s time, where the kids were almost OCD about keeping their rooms clean. My youngest may have taken it too far and started making his bed in the morning (sidenote: I don’t make my own bed).
So then the kids asked for fish.
Alright. Fish I can do. Sure, they suck, they smell, and they’re a bunch of work but they’re also nice to look at, so fine. Fish.
My kids were at art class on Saturday afternoon, when my wife and I went to the pet store. Before we chose which smelly fish tank to buy to house the smelly fish, we decided to walk around and see what other animals they had.
I wept internally as we passed by the cats, but then we found ourselves in front of a small pen, with tribbles inside. Cute, snuggling and crazy furred tribbles. I’m told by the authorities that they’re called ‘guinea pigs’ but I call ‘em like I see ‘em, and those furry bastards were tribbles.
And lo, we found ourselves falling in love with two tribbles and excitedly left the shop to go get our kids and force them to let us buy tribbles.
Upon our return, 2 out of our 3 fell in line. But the 3rd? Our eldest son? He wasn’t impressed. He wanted a lizard.
There was no way in hell that I was bringing a lizard into my home.
On the way home, car packed with cages for two tribbles and a Crested Gecko, I began scratching my eyes. No big.
We got home, got everything setup and everyone settled and there we were, a family of 8.
In a heartbreaking twist, when we woke up on Sunday morning, I thought I was blind, due to the fact that my eyes were swollen shut and I couldn’t see. Next to me, I heard (but didn’t see) my wife using her Asthma inhaler ferociously.
Turns out the two of us are deathly allergic to hay.
A lot of tears and discussions later, we found a new home for our tribbles (Guinea and Pumpkin Sohmer) with a good family. We were all mighty upset, but there was nothing to do.
We were a family of 6. The five of us, and a lizard.
I wasn’t too pleased. Until-
The Gecko (Hopper Fitzgerald Sohmer) climbed up my arm, and sat on my shoulder. A few days later, we got another Leopard Gecko for my youngest son – Dash The Flash Sohmer. And now my daughter wants one as well, which she’ll get.
All this to say, I’m The Fucking Father of Dragons now.
Beware my wrath.
-Because I Can.