[Clodfobble]

So yesterday, Minifob and I were at the PetSmart getting crickets for the pet tarantula. This is an errand we do every Monday while we wait for Minifobette to get out of orchestra practice, so it's very much a deliberate time-killer. As it happened, they were sold out of crickets, so we ended up wandering around the store, and discovered the kitten section where apparently they still sell actual kittens.

And they have a little room where you can play with the kittens if you think you might buy one. And Minifob begged to be allowed to. And the store guy let him. And Minifob was absolutely smitten.

Now, we did not buy the kitten. My stepson is very, very allergic to cats--like horrific skin rash and anaphylaxis allergic--so it's not an option. But I am a profound sucker for my children when they get doe-eyed about something. Because their life is frankly kind of shitty in ways other kids don't have to deal with, and I don't go overboard "making up for it" in an unhealthy manner, but when I get a chance to give them something special I do my best to do it. I decorate our house with Christmas lights every year, for example, even though I'm a genetic bah-humbug and it's a royal pain in the ass, because it makes them happy.

ANYWAY. I really, really, really don't want a dog. I have emotional baggage from having to scoop the poop of my shitty stepfather's dog all the time. But I know it would make the kids astoundingly, squeal-inducingly happy. And normally I can just kind of block that hypothetical image from my mind, but now I have actually seen my son get that way about a kitten, and I can't stop thinking that this is it, I've been broken, we're going to have to get them a dog.

Ideally, it will be a poodle/chihuahua mix with hypoallergenic hair that's several months old and has already been potty-trained. And the fact that I'm typing all that out means I've already thought about it waaay too much. Dammit.