I thought it was odd a couple of days ago when Mate texted “Could I bring Mango over to you for a couple of weeks?” Thinking friend drunk I gaily replied “Cool always love a Mango!”. Yesterday Mango came. Turns out Mango is a Hampster which I’d inadvertently agreed to look after while Mate and family topped up their tans at some glamorous location.
We’d only been in charge of Mango for 8 hours when he went missing from his cage. HOLY CRAP! Boy had been playing with the furball and left the cage open. “MANGO WHERE ARE YOU” The shout went out. I think our individual responces gave interesting insight into our personalities:
Me: Conducting a room by room search. Moving large items of furniture while thinking about how I break the news to Mates little ones that we’ve lost their little loved one.
Boy: Following me about with Mangos favourite food whispering “Here Mango Mango, Here Mango Mango”
Wife: Getting on with her morning proclaiming as a matter of fact “Well he’s gone now, where are we going to get a new one from? What colour was he?”
Boy however came up trumps. Standing still in the middle of his bedroom listening he detected Mango behind his dressing up chest. This moved revealed the little golden one sitting on top of a discarded chess board with a look on his face which read: “Rumbled“.
Boy promtly rewarded mango with a snack of his favourite food. A stern lecture followed about responsibility followed by my writing of this post as a warning to friends: DON’T TRUST US WITH MANGO!