The Pet Rock

Ok! Think fast, think hard! Does anyone remember having a Pet Rock? Ok times up! The year was 1975 and Pet Rocks were the craze. (I am really dating myself here!) I, of course, had one perched on a shelf on the desk in my room. I am sure the rock was given a name (probably first, middle and last) but it has long been forgotten. I do remember the little carton that folded closed, complete with air holes. The inside came with straw for my little rock to live on but I believe I promptly replaced that with scraps of fabric left over from Grandma's quilting. The rock was the greatest pet ever. Ya didn't have to feed it, clean up behind it and it was very skilled at various tricks, such as sit, stay and play dead.
Well, Tara and Cassidy were bored one day about two weeks ago (you know where this is headed, right?) and I suggested going outside and finding a special rock. We had a little package of squiggly eyes and I thought they would find that special rock, add some eyes, put it in a box and voila, a pet to amuse them for hours!! Did I underestimate the imagination of these little heathens. Not only did they find a special rock, they found an entire city's worth of special rocks. And it is no wonder because the little box I recommended was replaced by a large diaper box (like you get from Sam's Club). The smaller boxes were their "travel boxes". The little dears also decided that eyes were not enough. Oh no, they had to paint each and every rock. Not to mention the boxes that had to be decorated too! At my kitchen table. One color was not enough. There were stripped, spotted, two toned rocks and some rocks were designated as girl rocks and some were boy rocks. Once Tyler and Ray Ray got involved it was complete chaos. Their rocks weren't carefully chosen. They just wanted rocks...and paint. And they knew Mom wouldn't say "no" because the girls had been doing it.
I am still finding rocks. The lawnmower chews them up and spits them out. I find them in the toy basket, under the couch and in some very weird places. I know from where they came cause they are all painted. The cardboard box is still in my carport, filled with painted rocks and sitting next to the trash can. I am so tempted to discreetly throw it in the trash and be done with it all. I can't do it though, based on childhood trauma stemming from a pumpkin full of "little people" that got disposed of by accident (that is another story!). I will wait for Kevin to get home to do the dirty work. I wonder what happened to my rock? It was probably vacationing in the pumpkin....