All My Children

My son, his girlfriend and my daughter launched a surprise attack on me this evening. I was at home, enjoying 'Sharktopus';the classic story of a giant half-shark half-octopus on the rampage through the beachside resorts of Mexico, (though obviously not as epic as 'Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus'; how could it compete with Mega Shark, so big it leapt out of the ocean and ate a commercial airplane, a Giant Octopus and Lorenzo Lamas?), when my son called me in to his room. My daughter was close behind me, and his girlfriend joined us via skype. They wanted to introduce me to the newest member of our family; a hedgehog named Tofu. Tofu was purchased in Seattle, Washington from a professional hedgehog breeder.
(A professional hedgehog breeder?)
My kids, for some reason, thought I would be completely thrilled with the idea of bringing a nocturnal (and illegal) rodent into my already crowded and unhygenic home. They were, in fact, taken aback when I was less than ecstatic. Call me uncharitable, but when your kids can't even put away their clean clothes or walk a dirty cup from the table to the sink, it's hard to imagine them taking care of another living creature when they do such a poor job of looking after themselves.
My son told me he has done extensive research on hedgehog care and that they do not smell, can be potty trained (emphasis on "can be"), are quiet, eat dry catfood, and are 'really cute'. I told them in my country we wrap hedgehogs in clay then bake them. The spines come out into the clay and the hedgehogs are delicious. So I've heard.