I Dare You To Eat It

One night when Rosie was about 7, Mike and I were tucking the girls into bed and heard a tiny little mewing noise from behind a wall. We immediately looked at each other and then at Sarah but she had already frozen. All I could think was, ”Noooway, they wouldn’t get a pet without even asking!” We quickly scanned the room for clues and then pounced on a small access door in the corner. Sure enough, behind the door and in front of the plumbing pipes was a nifty little pad, all cozy and set up just right for the noisiest kitten.

Absolutely not was our answer. By now the other girls were in the room squealing, “What are you going to do? What are you going to do?” like we were homicidal maniacs. Then they informed us that it had all been Rosie’s idea. We informed them that the cat was going back. You should have seen the look on the neighbor’s face when she answered the door and I said “Hi! Here’s your kitten. Bye now!”

Turns out Rosemary, the youngest, had decided that the girls could easily hide a cat from mom and dad. Then she talked the crew into contributing their hard-earned, not-from-allowance savings in order to purchase numerous kitty supplies at Shopko. I have no idea where I was during all this time. At some point, they walked to the store on a very busy street, bought the goods and then convinced the neighbor kids that it was for sure okay, of course with their mom and dad, to adopt one of the kittens.

In the end no one cried, but they were bummed about the money lost. 

“Yeeea, that’s too bad. You’ll have to be more careful with what you invest in.” And then we sent everyone back to bed. I’m sure they’re going to need therapy at some point.