Crumpled Home

(while eating breakfast)

RJ: Scarlet’s feet are clicking… Click click click.

Dad: Is that a problem?

RJ: Yes. It reminds me of giant spiders walking around the house… Giant spiders that eat people.

Dad: Maybe we could train one. We could have it as a pet!

RJ: No. That’s not a good idea.

Dad: Why not?

RJ: Because Grammy doesn’t mind little spiders, but she would be scared of a giant spider and she would freak out.

Dad: Fair enough. Can’t say I’d blame her.

(over breakfast)

RJ: I really want a pet angler fish.

Dad: There’s a problem. They’re really only happy when there’s thousands of pounds of pressure on them, and an aquarium that could do that would be very expensive and big.

RJ: Maybe we could change the fish somehow.

Dad: Like what, change its DNA and genes or something?

RJ: Yeah! Give it new genes!

Dad: What genes would you add?

RJ: Frog genes. Then it could be an angler fish with jumping legs!

… Is anyone else terrified by the idea of a 1.5 metre semi-amphibious predatory angler fish? I have visions of them lurking around coastal areas and leaping on unsuspecting swimmers.

RJ: (yelling from adjoining room) Hey! I’ve got a spider in here… It’s a redback. It’s a really big one.

Dad: (yelling back) Be careful, RJ. I don’t want to see him wandering around the house!

RJ: (peeking head around doorway) It’s okay! It’s okay! I have a leash for him! (holds up skipping rope)

Dad: Be afraid… Be very afraid…

Roachy was looking very feeble that morning; on his back, legs stuck in the air, barely moving at all. RJ spent some time finding the right kind of tree bark “medicine” and carefully placing it next to Roachy. The rest of us had pretty much given up hope. Roachy was well on his way to becoming an ex-cockroach.

The next morning over breakfast, we held our breath as RJ carefully looked into the box.  To our dismay surprise, we found Roachy happily perched on his piece of bark, antennae waving jauntily in greeting.

“He’s all better! He’ll need some food!” cried RJ.

After a healthy breakfast of lettuce, tomato and mushroom, Roachy was looking terrific. RJ declared him healed and we sent the two of them off together to school.

The teachers must be getting really, really sick of our ‘pets’.

Today we learn that roaches are TOUGH... After the apocalypse the only things that will survive... Cochroaches... Twinkies... and the remains of things held together with duct tape.

Our family has gotten larger by two. Bella and Rhino came home with us on the weekend, and while still a little sore from a recent (snip) operation, the two ladies were full of vim and vigour. Actually, they probably have a little too much vim, but so do the kids, so it’s probably an even match.

The kids named the ferrets before they had even arrived. LR named Bella and RJ named Rhino.

Someone else: You can’t call your ferret Rhino… That’s a boy’s name!

RJ: There are girl rhinos too, you know!

(Score yet another point for RJ… You tell ‘em, little man.)

Rhino and Bella are pleased to make your acquaintance.

(at the Western Australian Museum)

RJ: I want one of those. It would make a good pet.

Dad: A carnotaur? I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

RJ: No. A hypsilophodon. We could keep it in the back yard.

Dad: That’d be fun. It would probably eat some of the plants in mum’s veggie patch, though.

RJ: Maybe we should get two then.