Hello My Little Pet

At the beginning of the pandemic, Lotta would go outside and chat with our chickens when she was upset.  Then, Thom became burned out on caring for chickens and gave them away.  Lotta decided having a pet, like a dog or better yet, a bunny, would be the only way to get over this heartbreak.  Zibbi and Lotta have spent plenty of time spying on the dogs in the neighborhood from our back yard.  When they hear them barking, they race outside, scale half way up the fence, so that they can see over, and say hello.  Lotta has inquired why we have to be THE only family in the history of the world to NOT have a pet.  I assured her this was not the case.  That for example, her best friend did not have a pet.  When, suddenly, against my better judgment, they went and brought home a kitten.  I know, selfish, right? Now, every time Lotta is upset, she is thoroughly convinced she would feel ever so much better if only she had a pet.  (I have tried to explain, to no avail, that even if you HAVE a pet, you still get to feel ALL the feels.  Of course, that argument is way too logical.)  

  

Honestly, I just think our family is more of a baby family, than a pet family.  When we see a baby, we all get extremely excited (Thom, not so much, that's not the way he rolls.  His excitement is more on the inside than the outside.)  Anyway, the other day, Zibbi asked me when I was planning on becoming a Grandma.  I paused, a bit shocked by the question (although I knew it came from her classmates informing me their Grandmas were my age.)  I responded, "I think that's actually up to YOU, not me."