s'mores

I said no for months. I didn’t want the mess, the smell, the extra responsibility that I was sure would fall on me.

But she was so persistent, watching videos, learning from other pet owners, making lists with prices. Assuring me over and over again she could do it, she could clean, so could do extra chores, she could be responsible for a pet.

And then finally, after she made breakfast for her siblings and asked me a dozen times if I needed help on an evening I was stressed, Alex and I looked at each other and thought, “she’s ready.” We surprised her after school last Friday with a cage and then took her to the pet store to pick out her buddy.

Meet S’mores. He is a guinea pig, eight months old, given to the pet store by a family who could no longer take care of him, so we adopted him into ours.

And dang, he’s pretty sweet. I kinda like him.

Isn’t everything sweet and worthwhile right on the other side of that thing you don’t really want to do?