Spirit Animal

My three year old is intense. He’s not your average toddler. Some would call him strong willed, I call him a maniac. Our most spiritual friend of said once “he is just pure fire”. Our daycare lady talked me off the ledge one day by explaining, “think of this way, he is incredibly strong-willed, which will mean when he is an adult he will be goal oriented and always do what he sets out to do.  He will not take “no” for an answer. It just makes it tough when he won’t stop jumping on the couch. It makes for tough toddlers but successful adults”. I cling to that sentiment all the time. But, this means he never forgets ANYTHING, he has the kind of perseverance I wish I had.  I just wish it wasn’t about possums.

Last fall I was going through the usual slap-dashery it takes to get us out the door in the morning. I shuffled the kids into our attached one car garage, tripping over the recycling bags The Husband was so kind to leave directly in front of the door. I had gotten Baby Girl in her car seat, handed her a graham cracker and moved on to The Boy. As I was trying to maneuver his hand, clenching to track master Thomas, though the car seat restraint when I looked over to see a possum, stiff as can be, sitting on the cart we have in the corner for toys. I lost control of my body. You know those videos when moms lift cars off their babies to save them?  I did the opposite.  I jumped into the backseat, on top of The Boy, screaming at the top of my lungs. It’s actually a miracle I didn’t kill The Boy. Luckily The Husband hadn’t left yet. Look, I am a feminist and as progressive as they come. I am the one who mows our lawn, I literally work in the dirt for a living. But a possum falls in The Husband’s column. All I hear is The Husband yelling “Get the fuck out of my house!” then “all clear”.

 

 

 

Ever since this event, roughly 6 months ago, my son has been obsessed with possums. “E, what do you want to be for Halloween?...A possum”.  Have you ever had to call a bakery and ask if they could do a possum birthday cake?  I have. I ask him if he wants to play a game, he says “let’s just look at pictures of possums on your phone”.  I have to have the county library system hold every book there is on possums.



 



 

The possum has become our family mascot. I suppose it is more like his Spirit animal.  I think he must think, “what is this mystical creature that made my mom scream like that? I must learn its ways and tap into that power”. Either way, I don’t see the possum fad going anywhere. I guess it could be worse, it could be Caillou.  I really fucking hate Caillou.