Hamsters & Octopi
There are some discussions I never wish to have again.
“Do you know about hamsters and octopuses?” my wife asks as I roll over.
“I know something about hamsters and I know something about octopi,” I answer. “but I don’t know anything about hamsters and octopi together. Other than that it’d be a bad idea to keep them together.”
“I was thinking about sex,” she explains.
“Oh,” I say, rolling over again in hopes of ending the conversation.
“There’s the whole Richard Gere thing with hamsters, but octopuses have all those arms . . . all that suction.”
There is no escape, so I try to interject a little reality.
“Richard Gere used gerbils. And that was just an urban legend. And octopi have beaks; they’d bite the crap out of you.”
“You could put a muzzle on it, or get it when it’s young and train it.” she says. “Then it wouldn’t bite. Octopuses are smart. Smarter than hamsters.”
“Broccoli’s smarter than hamsters, and I’m not going to use broccoli to spice up our sex life. Hamsters eat the faces off of their babies.”
“How did they survive as a species?” she asks, finally distracted. “If it weren’t for that Richard Gere thing . . . ”
Damn. Back on that track.
“Gerbils dear, gerbils.”
“What’s the difference?” she asks.
“They’re completely different species! It’s like pit-bulls and dalmatians! What’s the difference there?”
“Well, one’s spotted, and . . . ” Damn. I knew I’d blown it. Those are breeds, not species. Time to try a different comparison before she points it out. “Bad example. What’re the differences between finches and swallows? Hawks and eagles?”
She ignores me completely and continues. “But hamsters are still stupid. An octopus would be neat.”
There’s only one way to end this: Without another word, I get out of bed, grab my book, and head for the sanctuary of my bathroom. Settling down to read a chapter or two, I give out one last shout “We’re not getting an octopus! Or a hamster!” It’s going to be an interesting day . . .
