Here’s a silly post from back in 2013 about an encounter with an unfortunately deceased possum.
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So Tuesday I picked up grandson Daniel …
…at soccer camp and headed back to his house. Traversing up the driveway, discussing Skylander Giants, we both saw this at about the same time:
A small, dead, open-eyed possum in the neatly manicured front lawn. “Look, Abu! A big rat!” Daniel yelled, as he excitedly unbuckled his seat belt, careening toward the thing.
“I think it’s a possum, Daniel, and I also think he’s dead.” (WHY do I use verbs like “think” in times like this? The possum was dead as a doornail with bugs swarming around its head.)
“That means he’s not breathing,” Daniel explained to me.
“Why don’t you go in the house and cool off, while I get rid of our friend?”
“NO!” Daniel screamed. “We have to show it to Mommy!”
“Well, he can stay here for a few minutes.” (Like the possum was going somewhere.)
At about that time, Olivia and Larkin, the cute twins from next door, came running into the driveway, straight from a pool party. And of course, Daniel had to show them …
… explaining that the “rat, I mean possum, was dead and couldn’t move, so don’t touch it till Mommy comes home because we are going to show it to her.”
Her expression says it all.
(Touch it?!)
NealEnJoy 