If you follow my twitter stream, you might have seen an ALL CAPS message a few weeks back about a “DEAD ANIMAL IN THE POOL!”
I was upstairs and the children came running inside yelling about a possum in the pool. I felt certain that their home education had failed them and that they really meant a mole was in the pool. Unfortunately, they were right about it being a possum. I let out a little shriek when I discovered this fact.
How a Nature-y, Charlotte Mason-y, Calm, Expert Mother Would Have Handled It:
“Look, children, a possum! Remember, possums are mammals, which means they cannot breathe under water. Obviously this poor creature wandered into our pool in the dark, and eventually its lungs filled with water and it was unable to survive. How sad. Let’s pull it out, draw it in our nature study notebooks, and then give it a proper burial.”
What I Did:
(don’t miss the part where I scream and say, “IT’S SOOOOOO YUCKY!”)
(also, apologies for the cinematography)
Then we tied it up in a trash bag — more correctly, I tied it up in a trash bag since you can see how much assistance I was getting from everyone else — dialed 311, and two hours later a truck from the city of Charlotte came and took our disgusting hairy friend away.