While you're waiting for all this fun stuff to happen, I'm sharing one of my favorite posts that was featured at In The Powder Room last year. Those of you who have been reading my blog from the beginning know what an animal hoarder I am, so I think you'll enjoy this post!
WELCOME TO THE ZOO
I was raised in a zoo-like atmosphere that could rival Dr. Doolittle's home. Once my sister started working at a wild bird care center, we ended up housing a menagerie of exotic animals. It wasn't unusual to find a pelican in the shower, a vulture on the desk, hawks in the kitchen or baby bats on the sofa. We dined with a toucan and cradled Burrowing Owls in our hands.
After I married years later, my husband and I adopted our share of cats and dogs to round out our family of six.
By the time our kids hit elementary school age, they wanted pets of their own. We started with goldfish and ended up with more floating at the top of the bowl than swimming at the bottom. The turtles came next, their mossy tank stinking up my son's room like a sewage dump. We gave them away after my husband threatened to make turtle soup. Soon after, my daughters adopted a long-haired guinea pig that resembled a stoner from Woodstock. We learned quickly not to be fooled by his calm demeanor. Apparently tickling guinea pigs under the chin is a big no-no.
We tried our hand at raising hamsters and it was all fun and games until mama hamster gave birth to nine babies and decided to eat three for lunch. Not the best way for my girls to learn how stressed-out mothers feel while raising their young.
Our home earned a reputation for being an orphanage for exotic animals, and pretty soon we were inundated with nocturnal pets. My husband suggested I tattoo the word “SUCKER” across my forehead due to my inability to say “no” to every animal that crossed our threshold.
At one point, we owned a sampler platter of animals that included a sugar glider, two albino rats, a pigmy hedgehog, a stray rabbit and seven chinchillas. My food budget for the critters equaled the national debt of a small, third world country.
It didn't stop there. I began feeding the outdoor birds and squirrels, which earned our home certification as a wildlife sanctuary. In short, permission to own a smaller version of Noah's Ark and my reputation as an animal hoarder.
Nowadays my husband gets nervous every time I visit a zoo and has banned me from watching Animal Planet for fear I will bring home a family of penguins or lemurs. He's convinced that whenever a child leaves our nest, I replace him or her with a new pet. This would explain the three rescue dogs I now own. One pug in particular cannot be potty trained and wears a doggy diaper made out of feminine hygiene pads. His digestive system is like a Tampax factory---he eats the Kotex pads lining his diaper and poops out tampons on the lawn.
My husband is waiting for the day I stop hoarding animals and start collecting yard gnomes or AARP discounts for travel, but.....oh look! Teacup pigs are on sale!
Want more Meno Mama? This week I was featured on the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop. Find out how I keep my man happy right here: http://humorwriters.org/2014/08/01/keep-husband-happy/