Either my children have died and gone to heaven or hell has frozen over. Because as of yesterday, we are officially the owners of a new pet bunny. Did I mention that I’m allergic to bunnies? And to the idea of pets in general.
I am still asking myself the age old question, “How on Earth did this happen?” Meanwhile, the Hubby is hoisting forty pound bags of bunny food onto the deck, RedDog is filling the water bowl, Hannie B. is shoving baby carrots through the cage grates, Big C. is making hutch plans and Owlie is screaming over and over again at the top of his lungs, “BUNNNNNNEEEEEEE!”
Now I will tell you how this actually did happen. Because it is all my fault. See, I gave the Hubby a book for Christmas called “To The Rescue”. It is the biography of Thomas S. Monson, the current president and prophet of our church. He raised animals as a young boy and it created great bonds between him and others. The Hubby, who desires to forger stronger bonds with RedDog and Hannie B. decides a bunny is the way to go. As luck would have it, a family in our church congregation breeds bunnies and has some available babies. The kids go pick a bunny and bring him home.
What have I learned? That the Hubby is a sucker. That my allergies are no barrier between my children and their happiness. And that I won’t be buying books for the Hubby anymore because they give him crazy ideas.
Now we need your help. This bunny is without a name. We could not agree on one yesterday. Hannie B. thought maybe some blog readers would have good ideas. If you would like to suggest a name for our male bunny, please look into his sweet black eyes, get a sense for who he is as a creature and leave a comment. We will be taking suggestions until Wednesday night. We will throw in any last minute family suggestions and then then we will vote and pick our family favorite.
Until then, pray for me. And for us. And by all means, feel free to pray for the bunny that he survives the madness that is this family.