about that . . .

I smelled a wet rabbit today. If you’re ever gotten a whiff of drippy bunny before, you know it’s not a smell you forget. But how, you’re probably wondering, does Adriane know what a wet rabbit smells like?

Please. Let me tell you, but only if you promise not to laugh.

Or just laugh a little.

Ok, bust out. It really is ridiculous.

I baptized my pet rabbits when I was little. I did. I’m not going to cover it up. I’m putting it out there: I. baptized. my. rabbits.

It seemed like a pretty smart idea at the time. In fact, my eight-year-old self thought the plan was fairly brilliant. Baptism saves people. I liked my rabbits. I wanted my rabbits to live forever. I baptized them. (Yes, I did use their water dish, and no, they didn’t like it.)

As it turns out, my logic was pretty poor. My rabbits all died (in various ways and at differing times . . . don’t think about that. Just keep reading.). Fake Baptism didn’t really save them. I was pretty disappointed. 

There’s a lesson to be learned in all this: Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to baptize rabbits.

Or hamsters.

Or really any animal at all. It’s just not good practice.

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2 thoughts on “about that . . .

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