Snips 'n' Snails

Snailie is the tiny thing, not the giant shell.  The shell, we found on the beach.

I didn't put Ptolemy is pre-school this year, so we have lots of time to explore the world without the mid-day deadline.  The world is our oyster and we can do whatever we want, my babies and I.  One morning we went to visit Nana.  On the way out of her house, Ptolemy spied a snail that was just out of reach in Nana's ivy pit.  I didn't want to give Nana Ruby a heart attack leaning out over the precipice to grab the snail, so I told Ptolemy we could go to the pet store and look at snails there.

He agreed and didn't waste any time throwing out his demands, with waterproof arguments to back them up.  First, he clearly stated, "I want to go to the pet store and BUY a snail and bring it home with us."  He repeated his statement for clarity numerous times.  Then he carefully stated his reasoning:  "Yesterday we went to Hobby Lobby and I picked out a green bag and you said I couldn't buy it and bring it home with us.  I want to BUY a snail and bring it home with us."

I agreed, mostly because I didn't think the pet store would carry snails.  When we walked into the pet store, there were soft, cuddly baby animals everywhere.  Ptolemy, like most three-year-olds, has the attention span of a tin can.  He bounced around the store shrieking enthusiastically about whatever caught his eye.  If it had been one of my other kids, we for sure would have come home with the beautiful, bargain-priced ten-dollar adult rabbit.  I'm weak; it was silky.  But Tolly barely noticed the rabbit between pointing out the baby Schnauzer and almost getting his finger bitten off by a cranky parrot.

It didn't take long for us to make our way to...an aquarium full of snails.  Wow.  The pet store had snails.  On the upside, it was only $2.99 for a "Mystery Snail."  That's a good deal for the experience of carrying your own sloshing plastic bag out of the store, regardless of what's inside.  It surprised me how decisive Tolly was about which snail he wanted.  I didn't even care that there was no real way to tell if the snail was alive or dead.  The way Ptolemy was swinging and shaking the bag, it was going to be dead by the time we got home anyway, so the inanimate nature of the creature was probably a plus.

In the car, I asked Ptolemy what he was going to name the snail.  He was quiet, then apparently became panicked and screamed, "I don't know!!!!  I don't want to name the snail!!  It's a snail!!"  OK, no pressure, my little OCD boy.  An hour later, he announced the name.  Snailie.  It took an hour to come up with Snailie??

Snailie went to lunch with us and Daddy at Wendy's, then home to his new trifle bowl.  *sigh*  Oh well, I don't make trifle anyway.  Snailie, after awhile, extended a tentative tentacle.  I was pretty impressed that he survived Ptolemy's reenactment of the Finding Nemo bratty-girl-in-the-dentist-office scene.  Snailie is a survivor!  When the kids got home from school, Ptolemy proudly introduced them to Snailie.  Just for fun, we googled Mystery Snail and found out that it's a real thing; not just what the pet store says when they don't know what it is.  Who knew?  The website said Mystery Snails could be quite entertaining, and we have found that to be true.  Just this morning, Snailie made a journey up the side of the trifle bowl to inhale some oxygen.  He's going to be a delightful pet...until Ptolemy spills his water and he shrivels up and dies.  But that's a story for another blogpost.