Pet Store Shenanigans

Pet stores. Exciting for the kiddos, smelly to the momma, and oh-so educational. For EVERYBODY.

The other night we were in the vicinity of the pet store, so we threw caution to the wind and went to torture ourselves by looking at the most adorable kittens and puppies and other allergen-riddled mammals (and some way creepy non-mammals) that we can never ever buy, not even in a million years, as my kids will tell you, “Thanks to Mom and her stupid allergies that could totally kill her, GOSH!” But they’re not bitter. They love me.

So, we browsed the store, marveling at the gecko’s eyes, giggling over the mice-in-the-wheel shenanigans, and freaking out over the ssslithering ssslinkiness of the snakes. As we approached the cockatiel cage, a favorite stop of my kiddos, we inadvertently stumbled upon an intimate moment between the two cockatiel residents.

Now, listen… I don’t care what anyone says, NOBODY wants to watch these pet store animals get their freak on. They’re shameless exhibitionists, openly exulting in braggy displays of unrestrained lust– all, “Oooh! Look at me! Look at me!” (and often in positions that put the Kama Sutra to shame)– displays which everyone knows are not appropriate for public and/or mixed company, and it’s exposed and embarrassing and gross, like karaoke.

But I digress.

“Oh, my,” said Hannah, pausing for one infinitesimal moment before hurrying past the cage, an embarrassed grin slowly spreading across her face.

“What?” Alli asked before looking into the cage. “Ooooh! Look! That one’s giving the other one a piggyback ride!”

Tanner and Hannah snorted.

“She doesn’t know,” Tanner said, turning away from the cage.

“Yeah, she doesn’t,” Hannah agreed.

But Alli was having none of it. She stood there, a thoughtful expression on her face as she shifted her attention between her grinning and increasingly red-faced siblings and the busy little caged birdies.

Thankful for at least one child with a shred of farmyard innocence, I began to shoo my kids toward the exit. Before we made it two steps, however, TGIM wandered over from the aquarium section of the store.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Okay. FINE. I giggled (because… dirty!) but only in my head. Duh. I have filters! Most of the time!

“Look, Daddy!” Hannah said, pointing at the cage.

So TGIM looked. Then looked again. It was one of those amusing little television moments where you could practically hear the double-take sound effect.

Then TGIM looked at me, and his eyes did that yelling thing, you know, where they are all, “Um, hello? Cat? WHAT the…?!” Like somehow I encouraged the birds to go for a quickie during store hours! Whatever. My eyes told his eyes to just STEP OFF.

Suddenly, Alli turned away from the cage, and in an ah-HA! tone of voice exclaimed, “Oh, I know! They’re mating!”

“Giddyup, little horsey!” Hannah blurted out, pitching Tanner into a fit of the giggles.

You know how you do that thing when you are trying not to laugh at something your child says because you aren’t quite sure whether or not it would be appropriate to encourage said child in questionable expressions of humor? You know, that thing? With the trying not to laugh? TGIM and I were doing that thing. Well, attempting to do that thing, anyway.

Hey, don’t judge. You weren’t there. You don’t know.

We turned to leave. Hannah grabbed her red-faced daddy’s hand and skipped alongside him as we headed out the doors and into the parking lot. “Hey, did you see the smiles on the birdies’ faces, Daddy?” she asked.

Tanner– trailing behind the two– scoffed at her ignorance. “Birds don’t smile.”

“Those ones were. Did you see, Daddy?! Those were happy birdies!”

“Okay, now you’re just embarrassing me,” TGIM said and determinedly changed the subject. To dessert ideas, I think, which… brilliant?!

But at my side, I felt a gentle tug on my arm. I looked down at Alli, who grabbed my hand with her little one and said in an innocent, confiding little voice, “Well, that sure looked like an awkward way to mate, didn’t it Momma?!”

In an instant, sure knowledge of impending adolescence (times three!) struck me and wrestled the air from my lungs more quickly than that time my big sister slammed her end of the see-saw down so violently it launched me up and off… and down. THUNK.

Can’t…! breathe…! I remember thinking back then. I thought the same now.

I choked back the breathlessness. I powered through. There was time yet. Still time.

“Oh, absolutely,” was all I replied, as I squeezed her hand. “Absolutely.”