The Boy and I dropped The Girl off at pre-school this morning. When we returned home, I walked down to the curb to drop some movies in the mailbox. It was raining lightly and the snails were out in force. I pointed some out to The Boy thinking he would be interested in them; especially the fact that there were tiny baby ones and large grown-up ones. He stopped to look at them for a few seconds while I continued to the curb.

That must have been when he realized that his cruel and heartless father had abandoned him, left him to die, essentially, in the midst of the largest, and surely the deadliest, snail migration the world had ever known. He panicked and attempted to avoid mollusky destruction by freezing in place and yelling for help.

Luckily, I was close enough to rescue him. Next time we have a snail encounter, I’ll point out to him how much faster and more maneuverable he is than a snail. With the proper training, I think he could take on ten snails.