The new face of Ace Ventura

In addition to learning the names of all my little friends under 3 feet tall, their parents, my fellow staff and teachers, I am now a co-parent of a guinea pig. My co-teacher told me we'd be getting this cousin of the bat and wondered if I OK with it. I was, but wondered if I really had a choice, being the new kid on the block and all.

One unusually rainy day the kids thought it would be great to start "Shortie Sausage" on an exercise regimen. Outside. In the mud. Guess who got to be the overseer of this fantastic venture and guess who was responsible for "helping" 10 toddlers give this now muddy furball a bath? Me. We googled guinea pig bath instructions and followed the basics. The basics being: don't get her head wet and make sure she's dry before putting her in her cage.

The day's interaction with small creatures was not going to end there. I leave work to head to Parker to babysit for some friends of mine. Colorado's rainy days are few and somehow people forget how to drive in it, so what usually takes about 45 minutes-one hour took three. I reach the house, receive bed-time and temporary addition of 2 small dog instructions and the parents head out for dinner. The dad briefly returns only to be followed into the house by a small song bird, who immediately flies to the cathedral-style 2nd story staircase. Dad character grabs a broom because mom character is deathly afraid of birds and proceeds to swat the bird back out the front door. Bird character doesn't get the message and flies higher. At this point the small house dogs are trying to make a break for it so I corral them into the front office and shut the french doors. I then run upstairs to see the bird evicting progress. Its sitting in the windowsill of an upper story decorative frame. The dad pulls up the venetian for better access and I, not thinking it would actually sit still for me, go up and cup it in my hands, retreat outside and send it off, in similar fashion as doves at the Olympics...every bird needs it moment right? I am in the middle of my very theatrical release, surprising even myself, when the mom, who was waiting in the car wondering what was taking so long, looks out the suburban's window at that very moment to witness her babysitter throwing a winged friend out of her home. Dad runs up and dubs me his new hero while mom sits shocked and now not a little hysterical over recent events. He hops back in the car and they take off. The fun for me doesn't stop there. We have dinner and dessert and the kids vote for play dough time before bed. We head downstairs to the playroom to squish out salty creations. About ten minutes into the fun I notice the dog kicking up the carpet next to my chair. I recall something about dogs doing that sort of thing in the grass so I scan the room for a present. Apparently it was left specifically for me because it could not have been placed any closer to the miniature persons chair I was currently crouched in.
Shi-ca-caaaaa!