Losses

Imogen has been a proud owner of a very friendly hamster for a very short period of time. Now I am a not-so-proud owner of a hamster.

I recently walked into Imogen's room to find Melly's cage open and Imogen nowhere in sight. I was shocked, and lectured her on the safety of her pet and the possible consequences of her escape.

Only a couple days later, Genevieve walked in holding Melly. She had found her in the corner of the bathroom, cornered by the dog. I'm not even sure how she got from the desk where the cage was sitting to the floor without hurting herself. Genevieve informed Imogen who nonchalantly waved a hand and told Genevieve to put Melly back in her cage.

I was very disturbed. If, at this point, Imogen had freaked out, been worried about Melly, grateful to Genevieve, or anything normal at all, I would have figured she learned a lesson that wasn't as costly as it could have been. As it was, her dismissive attitude toward the whole event bothered me.

I took the hamster away, but not for keeps. She got yet another lecture, this one on responsibilities in general and how she could earn Melly back by showing me that she could take care of the things she's supposed to take care of. These are relatively simple. She's supposed to keep her room clean, do her laundry (with a little help from me in pouring the detergent) and do her piano practices.

Exhausted at fighting with Imogen to practice her piano and worried we were killing her love of music rather than nurturing it, Jeremy and I decided to cancel her lessons. She begged us not to, however, so we told her she had one week to prove that she wanted lessons, by voluntarily doing her practices. We would remind her but not fight with her about it. I'm not going to drag a kid to a lesson for which she has barely studied. It's a waste of the teacher's time, my time, and my money.

After most of the week had passed without any practice, we finally canceled. Jeremy and I were very sad but Imogen sobbed. I have no idea why. We hope that she will want to take them again in the future. The day after we canceled her lessons, we found Melly's food scattered through Imogen's room, everywhere. Piled up in the corners of her desk drawers, spread between her sheets, sprinkled across the floor. Two pounds of hamster feed never went so far.

So I took Melly away to be mine. I don't want a hamster. I would have bought myself a hamster if I had wanted one. She's cute and fuzzy and fulfills the role of a hamster quite well, but that's hardly the point. I don't even know what to do with her.