Me: You have a what in your backpack?
Meg: A grasshopper.
Me: Is it in a bag or something?
Meg: No. I told you, it's in my BACKPACK.
Me: Yeah, I got that part. So it's just free in there? If we open the backpack, it could just fly right out at us? Is that what you're telling me?
Meg gave me one of those "I guess I didn't quite think this all the way through" smile, then slowly unzipped the backpack, reached in and pulled it out (Eww! I specifically had girls so I wouldn't have to deal with this bug stuff!)
Meg: See Mom, it's not flying around in there.
Me: Fine, but it's NOT coming home with us, got it?
Meg: I'll get some styrofoam cups. It'll be fine.
To make a long blog short, she trapped the little grasshopper in between 2 cups taped together and poked several times with holes. No food. No water. This is what she does.
A few hours later, my husband and I agreed that it was time to set the grasshopper free. This did not go over well with Meg.
Meg (crying): But I want to keep it for a pet!
Me: We have 2 dogs. We don't need a grasshopper.
Meg: Fine, but when our dogs die I'M GETTING ANOTHER GRASSHOPPER! Or ... a hamster. Or maybe a parakeet.
Me: We'll discuss that if and when our dogs ever die.
Or if they run away again after the pest control guy leaves the gate to the backyard open like he did today! But that's a blog for another day ...
Oh I know! Brennen talked about grasshoppers all the way home yesterday. He did, however, come to the conclusion that he did not like them. Whew! Of course, I had a "pet" grasshopper when I was their age. heeheee
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