It all started innocently enough a few weeks ago when we went to PetSmart to buy some wild bird seed. It was getting late in the afternoon and we needed to get home for dinner, so I thought we'd be right in and right out. But....somehow the boys got distracted with the little critters and suddenly Tyler wanted a hamster. He went on and on about how it would be a great pet and how he'd take care of it all by himself, blah, blah, blah and just like that Rick was convinced and AGREED with the ridiculous plan.
We didn't leave with a hamster that night though. There were conditions. First Tyler had to behave with no major blowouts for a week and show that he could be responsible by making his bed, clearing his dishes from the table, etc. And all the while Rick could go bananas shopping online (his #1 hobby/addiction) for obnoxious amounts of hamster related product. By the way, can someone please tell him that you CAN buy hamster food in smaller quantities than 25 lb bags. Thank you. It's a hamster, not a dog, for God's sake.
Back at the house we transferred him to his new digs, where we've been patiently letting him adjust. No holding him yet, just a bunch of peek-a-booing.
Tyler named him Fluffy despite all the superior food names I suggested: Meatball, Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Gumbo, Peanut, Snickers. I could go on.
He's a little bit cute. I'll admit that.
Hi Fluffy!













