Chuck’s Corner – September, 2007
I received a spam email the other day from one of those online social-networking services. You know, the ones that tease you with things like “Someone’s been trying to contact you” or “Six of your old high school friends have just registered!” I think it was Classmates.com. What made this one stand out in my mind was the particular wording of the “teaser” line. It read “Are your Columbus High School friends looking for love?”
Now, in case you’re not aware of it, “Columbus” is not the complete name of the high school I attended. The real name is “Christopher Columbus Catholic High School”. There’s also a little addendum to that, which brings the full name to “Christopher Columbus Catholic High School – FOR BOYS”. So, while I appreciate Classmates.com’s efforts to “hook me up” with my old high school associates, I had to respectfully decline their offer. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
Another thing that made this email stick in my mind was that I received it on my birthday a couple of weeks ago and it reminded me that my 30-year high school reunion is next year. “30 years!” I thought to myself. “Why, if I don’t hurry up I’ll miss having my mid-life crisis! What should I do?” After some deliberation over what type of mid-life crisis to engage in, I decided to go with the ever-popular divorce.
Oh, relax! My wife and I get along just fine. It’s just that I’m looking for a better sister-in-law since one of mine seems to be intent on making my life difficult. I won’t bore you with a complete list of things she’s done over the years; instead I’ll just tell you the latest thing: She gave a couple of hamsters to our kids, complete with the hamster “condominium”.
“Oh, please! Hamsters are so cute!” you say? Hah! That’s a laugh! Let me tell you about hamsters…
First of all, their little hamster cage is the size of a small car and smells like a large outhouse. You have to clean it almost every day and even then you can’t walk by the thing without holding your breath. Inside the cage is the little hamster gym. This is really just a wheel that the hamsters can climb into and run around in for hours. And hours. And hours. At night. While you’re trying to watch TV. I’m thinking of moving closer to the airport so the sound of the planes taking off will drown out the noise from the hamster cage at night.
When they’re not running around on the wheel, they’re engaging in all sorts of “inappropriate behavior” if you catch my drift. “Good Lord!” I commented to my wife one day. “Are they part rabbit or something?” (At least we finally figured which one was the boy and which one was the girl.)
And if that’s not enough reason to not own hamsters, the other morning my wife woke me up around 5:00 in the morning “Get up! You have to come help me find the hamsters!” she was screaming. Somehow the little weasels had wedged a bunch of bedding material into the capsule that normally serves as their bathroom (I guess they couldn’t stand the smell either) and it finally popped the latch and the door opened. My wife quickly spotted one of them on the floor beneath the cage and I went to the back room to get the flashlight to help find the other one. As I switched on the light, I immediately spotted the fugitive rodent. As I scooped him up, he emitted a shrill little shriek and bit me! “That does it! You’re about to be slippers!” I said. “Oh, give him to me. He’s so cute!” said my wife as she took him from me and returned him to the cage with the other one.
Later that evening, my wife and son were cleaning the cage. As my wife was about to empty the old bedding into the trash, my son spotted something wiggling around in it. “Wait!” he said, “BABY HAMSTERS!” “THAT DOES IT!” I said. “I’m calling my lawyer.”
So if anyone knows a good divorce attorney or wants a bunch of hamsters, please email me at ChucksCorner@ComCast.net.