How are you enjoying this season to be jolly?
The Goo attended her first school Christmas party today, and met Father Christmas. I was informed by her teachers that she cried and tried to escape the clutches of the red suited, white bearded stranger who tried to foist a dollhouse on her.
Yup. She’s her mother’s daughter.
Anyway, Blast from The Past Thursday ended an hour ago, but I’m up so you get to read something I wrote in 2006 (I think). I called it The Little Hamster, and I wrote it when I was having angst filled debates with myself over quitting my job in stockbroking.
THE LITTLE HAMSTER
One day, the little hamster stepped off his wheel.
Sure, there were food pellets and water jugs that were refilled every day, but he didn’t want to live in a cage anymore.
This made the older hamsters angry. They asked the little hamster if he had eaten a bad pellet or something. They told him the cage was a safe place and that the wheel of purpose was every hamster’s destiny.
He said the wheel of purpose felt like a ball and chain and that the cage was more prison than safe house.
They asked him scornfully, “what will you do now?”
He answered, “I’ll burrow”.
So he stepped off the wheel and it slowed down and stopped, but the world kept spinning and the sun still shined. He broke the lock with an old milk tooth that had fallen off and stepped out of his cage/ safe house/ prison. When he stepped out of his cage and onto the ground, he realized, “I don’t know how to burrow”. Then he thought, ‘how hard can it be? I’m a hamster and that’s what hamsters are supposed to do! It will be as easy as running the wheel of drudgery’. So he put his nose to the ground, then his paws, then dug, wriggling his little hamster body into the ground.
There was something scary, but soothing about the soft, dark earth. It was as comforting as coming home but not knowing if he would survive this was freaking him out. It occurred to him that he could turn around and go back to the security of the cage with its food pellets and daily water refills. Sure, the other hamsters would never let him hear the end of it, but wasn’t life more important than fearing what other hamsters would say? But wasn’t life more important than fear? So he decided right there to stop worrying and keep burrowing.
The other hamsters never saw him again. Once in a while, word reached them that the little hamster had found an underground cave, and had met a little hamster girl. They heard rumours of his little hamster family, of his five little hamsters, and they still kept muttering, “He must have eaten some bad pellets.”
(PS. Do hamsters burrow?)