Warning: do not read this post while consuming anything you want to enjoy. Do not read this post while consuming anything that isn’t enjoyable at all, but you are eating anyway. Warning over.
The other day, I walked to school to pick up Joe and Bob as usual. As I rounded the corner to get on the sidewalk, a special treat greeted me.
It was a rabbit, with its coat still wet from the rain earlier in the day, lying there dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
And it had a huge bite out of its rear end.
Now, Joe and Bob are by no means immature for their ages, but they are 10-year-old and 8-year-old boys. Knowing how boys are, I expected they would want to touch, kick, poke, and prod the poor used-to-be bunny. As we started on our way back home, I prepared them for what they would see. I told them they would have to act more mature than they are. I told them they could look but had to keep walking.
I was very impressed by the way they handled it. When they saw it, they oohed and aahed rubbernecking a little, but they kept walking. And then they proceeded to tell the whole neighborhood the detail that I had left out, “It ate its butt!”
Yes, Joe and Bob yelled at the top of their lungs the rest of the way home, “It ate its butt!” When we ran into another babysitter and her boyfriend, they promptly told them, “It ate its butt!”
When I walked that same sidewalk the next week, I was happy to see that there was no sign of that poor bunny that didn’t have a bunnytail. I guess the animal that had him for a snack came back for his dinner.
