It began as an innocent reminiscing during a wonderful
campfire at our hideaway in the great Upper Peninsula of Michigan. After a few warming beverages, my husband and I looked across the flames toward my oldest son, just turned thirteen. You know the age… attitude dipped in hormones and covered in acne. Admiring the well-adjusted boy he was, and as all good parents often do just for fun in the deep woods of the great north, we decided to rock his little world and tell him one of our families’ deepest, darkest, and most horrid secrets. We revealed to our son the truth about Scurry the Hamster.
Now Scurry was my son’s first pet. This pet was your average
hamster and had actually passed into hamster heaven about four years prior to
the campfire. The conversation went a bit like this:
Steve: “Son, your mother and I have decided that it is time
for you to know the truth about your hamster Scurry” (I proceed to crack up….)
Sam: “What truth Pa?” (My son does not actually refer to my
husband as “Pa” but it works better in this story).
Steve: “The truth son, is, …..well, the truth is that your beloved
hamster buried back home in the backyard is not really, truly, Scurry.”
Sam: “Pa, this is not some weird Pet Semetary story is it?
Don’t freak me out in the woods up here.”
Steve: “No, son, Scurry is not of the undead. It is just
that the Scurry buried there, is not actually the original Scurry number one.”
Sam: “What?!” (Now, I am laughing so hard, I head to the
outhouse)
Steve: “Son, let me tell you about a boy, a young boy, say
you, having a fourth birthday. All you asked for was a tiny, disgusting, little
rodent for your special day. Your mother insisted for some reason that it was
imperative for your little dream to come true (yes, this is all really your
mother’s fault in the end, just a cliff note). So I bought you the cutest,
littlest hamster one could buy at the pet shop and fulfilled your wildest
dream. You were ecstatic! You loved that disgusting thing and named it Scurry.
I have never seen you so happy since son. It was a magical day. Now, let’s just
admit here in the light of this campfire, that the night was not so magical for
Scurry One. He croaked sometime after Jay Leno and before Conan O’Brian (this
was before he moved to TBS, another tragic story I will share another time) and
your mother began a supreme freak out. I
was able to calm her down and we devised a diabolical plan. We told you in the
morning that Scurry had been so happy to meet you that he had fell asleep
exhausted and would be just fine when you arrived home from pre-school. “
Sam: “Scurry….was…..dead??? What? You lied to a
preschooler?”
Steve: “Yes, son, quite easily. I then missed a day of work
and headed off to purchase Scurry Number Two.”
Sam: “So that was how he got so much bigger that day!”
Steve: “Yes, son, I bought a much older and stronger hamster
that would be able to sustain life for more than three hours.”
Sam: “So, I have Scurry Number Two buried at home Pa?”
Steve: “Well, don’t get ahead of yourself son. Scurry Two
did live eight long and glorious months before the escape.”
Sam: “What??? I remember him getting out, but he didn’t
die!”
Steve: “Well, actually he did. Apparently while gallivanting
around in the basement for the three days that we were looking for him…he feasted on a bit of
D-con, the end was quite brutal….thank goodness you were at school.”
Sam: *Gasp*
Steve: “We told you he was so tired from running around the
house, that he was exhausted and sleeping. So I once again missed a day at work
for a six-dollar rodent and brought home Scurry Number Three”
Sam: “So Scurry Three lived three more years and is buried
in the back yard Pa?”
Steve: “Now, you keep gittin (My husband does not often say
‘Gitin” but again, works best for the story.) ahead of yourself son…Scurry Three
did live the longest out of all of ‘em”
Sam: “All of them???? For the love of Pete Dad!”
Steve: “Well, Scurry Three was actually murdered by your
sweet mother. After escaping for that week back in ’02, she found him nested in
her brand new carpeting. A hole clear down to the sub floor….a five hundred
dollar repair…had no idea your mother could punt kick that far……very
impressive.”
Sam: “So, Dad….what number Scurry was actually buried during
the funeral of 2003? The one that I still need therapy over? And Mom is a
hamster killer??
Mom: “I prefer rodent eliminator son.” (This was another
lie, I never killed that hamster…..he just died…..so I say(insert evil
laughter))
My husband took a moment to try and count on his fingers….I
was laughing so hard I could not breathe.
Steve “Let’s just say….it is five or six times a whole lot a
love son…..a whole lot of hamster love…”
We plan on starting that therapy for the kid next week.
Mission accomplished.
