Possums and bunnies

One thing that I can say for certain is this: Sometimes in life, you miss the possums and bunnies. And it will be OK.
I base this on two recent events that occurred with my son. The first happened last Friday night, around 10:30. We were driving home (late night at the dog track with the kids. Or perhaps Relay For Life), cruising down South Boundary at a rip-roaring 20 or so mph. From the left side of the road, I saw a small gray furball scurry onto the roadway.
I slammed on the brakes, trying to give the little possum time to get across the road. Representing the possum community with extreme intellect, the little guy stopped, looked at my van and made a sharp left turn, so he was now traveling down South Boundary rather than crossing it.
I nudged the van forward a little, hoping to encourage the critter off the road. Eventually, he made a right turn, heading off the road, scurrying in between two piles of grass clippings. Now, keep in mind, this all happened in a matter of seconds. My daughter was in the middle of the van and was able to see the possum. My son, however, was in the back and was fairly close to being asleep so he was a little slow on the draw. By the time he had shifted and rearranged, the possum was out of sight.
And cue the upset 6-year-old.
“I...wanted...to...see...the...possum...” he said, choking back tears. It was quite evident this was the single most tragic event ever to happen on this planet.
He was still repeating the possum-seeing desire when we got home. Despite my efforts, I could not convince him that it would be OK. I even made one last-ditch Hail Mary that my wife said was not helping matters. You decide: I simply said, “Parker, you want to see the possum next time? Because the only way to make it stay in the road is to hit it. Fine, I’ll run it over next time. Dead or not seen – your choice.” OK, maybe in retrospect I could have posed that scenario differently.
Eventually, he settled for a few Internet pictures of possums, a book that had pictures of possums and a story involving King Parker of the Land of Possumia. Although he would have given it all up for seeing the possum.
The second instance involved my daughter seeing a bunny. My wife and daughter were heading off to school when it occurred to my daughter that she had left her retainer at home. Easy rule of thumb for locating my daughter’s retainer: Find where she is. Look elsewhere.
Anywho, my son and I were eating breakfast when Allie came bopping in. “We just saw a bunny!!!”
And cue the upset 6-year-old.
“I...wanted...to...see...the...bunny...” he said, choking back tears. It was quite evident THIS was now the single most tragic event ever to happen on this planet.
After several minutes of bunny discussion, I sat Parker down for a calm and reasoned discussion. I then realized he’s 6 and in a tizzy, and I would have as good of a chance of having a calm and reasoned discussion with an angry badger.
When his inner badger receded somewhat, we sat down again. I explained to him that we would not always be able to see everything everyone else did. I reminded him of all the cool things he got to see and how much fun it is to share those stories with other folks. I also told them that unless he could cry tears made of possums and bunnies, it served no purpose. He gave me a look that was clearly on loan from his mother.
When we headed off to school, Parker decided he would make up for the missed animals by finding 20 animals. As we pulled into school, he found a mockingbird for No. 20. (Other contributors to the count: horses, dogs, squirrels, a cat and a crow).
As we were pulling in, I said to Parker, “Remember, sometimes in life, you miss the possums and bunnies. And it will be OK.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.” As he got ready to get out of the car, he turned back to me. “But I’d still rather see the possum and the bunny.”