Well, I could postpone it no longer. We had to get the mouse. Out of six weeks, Samuel has only had one really bad day at school. Sure, he still isn't paying attention but he's not acting out. On Saturday we went to the pet store to pick one out. Samuel was beside himself. "Are you sure this isn't a dream? Am I going to wake up and this isn't true?"
He is actually kind of cute, in a mouse sort of way. He's tiny so I fear for his life. Samuel has named him Shawn. I know, not really a mouse name. So far, Shawn has survived a tumble down the stairs, a trip up a tree, and the neighborhood kids. George and I are taking bets on how long the little guy will survive. I'm guessing two weeks at the most.
I'm pretty proud of myself. As you know, I am not a rodent lover. I have held the little thing, let him crawl up my arm and actually think he's a nice addition to our family.
On a side note, when we were at the pet store, they had a Santa there. I think he was there to take pictures with people's dogs. This guy was the poorest excuse for Santa that I have ever seen. He had hiking boots on, his beard was hanging way off his face and he was skinny. Sophia hid behind me. Samuel just looked at him. When we got in the car, Samuel said this:
"Mom, I know Santa is not real."
"Yeah, he's just an old guy in a costume."
We have never made a big deal about Santa. I really don't tell him one way or another. I certainly don't want him to ruin in for other kids. I guess he knew this because this is what he said next:
"Don't worry mom, I won't tell anybody he's not real."