OUt-OUt!

The bunk bed was built extra high for a purpose: in order to allow the Under-Dweller comfortable head-space when he becomes a lanky teenager.  However, the midget currently occupying the “Down Under” is still years away from appreciating or needing that benefit.  The Over-Dweller, however, is gaining unforeseen profit from the height of his nest: it is conveniently far enough above adult eye-level that said occupant can store, gather, collect, breed or grow any combination of matter up there without parental knowledge or consent… unless the undisclosed project starts smelling or chirping, of course.

But unfortunately for Mr. Over-Dweller, his mother unexpectedly had reason to climb the ladder to his tower, and inadvertently discovered his collection of … s n a i l s.  SNAILS!  Yes, they were (somewhat) contained, but the Mother was not pacified by that flimsy detail. She promptly exiled the slime balls to the outskirts of the property and invited their caregiver back on condition that he returns sans gastropods. Further stipulations were clearly communicated to avoid any future misunderstanding on the issue: NO SNAILS are welcome in ANY room, bed, closet, space or surface of this house. 

The Over-Dweller left the crime scene with drooping shoulders and a perplexed look of complete surprise and incomprehension.  The Mother heard him mumble some parting words to the effect of: “… only snails …my bed after all…so cute…cold outside…”  Tempted to get the last word in with a reply containing the key words “my house…slime…dirt…yuck” the Mother miraculously held her tongue. And despite those puppy dog eyes that pleaded on behalf of snail-rights,  she was not swayed from her verdict: no.more.snails.in.this.house.

Later in the day, the Mother quite forgiven and the injustice done to him and his snails graciously forgotten, the Over-Dweller comes bursting into the house with a new-found friend: “Look what I found!  A snake!”  The Mother jumped up, apologized profusely to her visiting friend for the interruption and through clenched teeth... or maybe they weren't all that clenched...ordered the snake and the boy OUT. The traumatized friend understandably announced her need to depart on account of…er…an urgent errand.  She aptly offered her condolences and an escape route to Neptune should the creatures and their caretaker get the upper hand and the Mother finds herself in desperate need of a self-imposed exile.