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So the conversation went something like this:

Middle Child: “Why is Mr. Cheeks in the garage?”

Parent: “Because he is a rodent and needs to live where the other rodents live.”

Middle Child: “He’s a hamster and he absolutely can’t live in the garage. I’m taking him to my room.”

Parent: “Bring that rat into my house, and you’ll live in the garage with him!”

More Logical Parent a.k.a The Pushover: “He can stay in the laundry room but he is not allowed out of that cage.”

The Other Parent a.k.a The Mad One: “I’m not feeding it, cleaning up after it and if it smells, he’s out!”

And so for the last few weeks each and every time I wash or fold a load of clothes, I’m confronted by Mr. Cheeks and his beady little black eyes giving me a once over. I’ve renamed him Mr. Creepy and for the moment, we are both tolerating each other.

Growing up my kids always wanted a hamster. I was highly opposed, however, to any type of pet that I could catch on a glue board, so we got them a goldfish and when he died, I turned his fish bowl into a planter.

When the middle child went off to school and finally got her own place, she immediately bought Mr. Cheeks. A sign of rebellion, of course, and since that day Mr. Cheeks has been living the life of luxury as a mascot of college life and all that comes with it. For the last few years he has spent his days sliding down his slide or spinning in his wheel, not a care in the world, except to entertain college students with his antics.

But their college days have come to an end and reality is slowly setting in for both our middle child and her little friend. A 40-hour work week, bills and adulthood await, and I have a feeling, Mr. Cheeks is soon going to lose his appeal.

And as parents who’ve ever had a child return home with a pet know so well, that means when our middle child does move out again, Mr. Creepy will likely be left behind.

And when that happens, as parents who’ve ever been regifted a pet well know, I’ll buy him an outfit and new cage and move him to our room!