“Harry, why did you make a hole in the blanket?”
“Because it’s raining, nothing to do except tear up blankets. That’s not all.”
“What else, Harry?”
“I peed by the refrigerator.”
“I chewed up Bernie’s red lacquered box of Japanese name stamps.”
“I broke the butter dish. I couldn’t help it, it was right on the dining table—“
“—in the center of the table, Harry—“
“—so it was no big deal to jump on the chair, then jump on the table, and gobble down the butter. Just too bad the dish fell on the floor and broke.”
“And did you also throw down the salt and pepper shakers, not to mention the Italian seasonings?”
“What else was I supposed to do? They weren’t real food. Another thing I did was, I chewed up the sides of the blue recyclable bins.”
“Why did you do that, Harry?”
“My teeth need exercise. I just took nibbles, nothing to get excited about, but you should have seen what I did to the bird food canister.”
“You mean, it weren’t mice who created that big hole in the bottom?”
“My, my, I cannot tell a lie, it was moi. Guess what else?”
“Tell me after my nap.”
“I can reach the kitchen counter.”
“How do you know, Harry?”
“Because I jumped right up on it. I thought there was beef stew there but you’d already put it away. Not to mention the car.”
“Are you perchance referring to what happens when I leave you alone in the car for a few minutes and you go bananas? Let’s see, last time you pushed every button you could find, turned on the window wipers and the radio, got rid of my favorite stations, and locked up the car doors.”
“Not to mention that I almost pushed the gear shift from Park to Drive. I’m a born hazard, is what I am!”
Where does forgiveness come from?
Where does self-forgiveness come from after you’ve murdered the little monster?
And where’s the store that sells compassion because there are times when, search high and low, you’ve simply run out?