Coolness

I am a cool mom. Not just because I baked The Little One a birthday cake fashioned after one of the Jonas Brothers' guitars. Not just because I download tunes to the Not-So-Little-One's mp3 player once a month. And not just because I do a mean hoe-down in the kitchen.

This is why I am quite possibly the coolest mom on the planet:

I am the coolest because I not only agreed to having this in my home, but I also handle it daily.

And when it recently showed no interested in it's meal, I split open the brain of the thawed pinkie mouse and smeared brain matter and blood all over it's naked little body in hopes of making it more appetizing. That has GOT to make me the coolest mom ever.

And then there is the house gecko that one of the neighborhood boys caught and offered The Little One as a gift. I have learned to squelch my utter terror of bugs and help feed it crickets. We buy a dozen crickets at a time, and we actually house and feed the victims until their time has come.

We laid two green iguanas to rest several months ago. They didn't fare too well in captivity. But while they were living, I prepared a lizard salad every morning for their dining pleasure. And I wrestled them while the girls tried to put leashes on them.

When the Not-So-Little-One rescues baby birds from the yard, I resist the urge to remind her that we have yet to successfully keep one of these little dudes alive. Instead, I help her arrange a heating pad beneath a cardboard box and try to hand feed them.

The Not-O-Little-One brought home a caterpillar several years ago. I got online and researched methods of housing them. We nonchalantly plucked leaves off of a neighbor's mulberry tree and kept a moist cotton ball in the jar for water. I'll be hornswaggled if the darn thing didn't metamorphose and emerge as a little white moth. I dried her tears as she reluctantly released it.

Some kids may rate a mom's coolness factor according to her choice of music or the style of her clothes. Some may base that rating upon whether or not she turns a deaf ear to the conversations they are having with their friends in the backseat on the car.

My daughters might tell you that I listen to some weird music and that I have a style of my own. They will definitely tell you that if I hear something hurtful or disrespectful, I will verbalize my opinions about it. Hopefully they will also tell you that I encourage them to enjoy the entire animal kingdom, and that I make an effort to enjoy it along with them.