Sunday, December 2, 2007

Herbivores don't eat little boys, I promise.

We came home late Saturday night, and by late I mean after dark. This is unusual for us, though. As I pulled into the alley behind my house to park, I spotted the rabbit, right near the hole in our fence. I backed up, pointed it out at the children and tried to point my headlights at it.

It dashed under the fence. Into my vegetable garden, where my broccoli was finally starting to recover. Dangit.

Imagine my surprise, when, in our conversations as we pulled into the garage, when the littlest one appeared nervous. Not nervous like the middle one, about letting the dog out into the yard (that dog's so old and fat the bunny had NOTHING to worry about. Even when she was young and lean, she was stealthy like a jet plane.) He was worried that the bunny was in our yard, and that it was going to come and get us. In our sleep.

He asked how high it could jump. And what it ate. We talked about what an herbivore is. He asked if it could crash through windows. And doors. He asked about it's teeth and what noises it would make. He asked each of these questions at least four times before bath. And then again as I was putting him to bed. Terrified of a cute little broccoli eating bunny.

When Sarge came home, I told him that I would bet that it was one of the first things the little one would tell him about. Even before the fun kid-centered late night activity we'd attended. True to form, the little one told Sarge all about the "stupid bunny in our yard" but the fear had subsided with the daylight.

Even at lunch today, Sarge brought it up again, and he denied being scared faster than the older one denied playing with Barbies. We'll see what the sunset brings.

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