Caged Animals, Down Syndrome and A Wake Up Call

I hate cages. Animals in cages depress me. I love my children enough to take them to the zoo but I feel anxious the entire time. The rule breaker in me wants desperately to open the cages and free the animals. I feel like Lisa Simpson in running shoes, only not nearly as cool.

My boy turned 7 last week, and all he wanted was a hamster. We've had hamsters before and we had yet to enjoy having a hamster live with us. Hamsters are nocturnal. Hamsters are tiny. Hamsters are rodents for crying out loud! Hamsters are food for my dog. Hamsters live in cages.

Because I love my son, I found myself standing in the companion animal section of PetCo. There was one very fluffy hamster in a cage and one person who working the section with someone else. "Excuse me, when you're done could you help me with this? I really want to make sure I get this hamster." I asked. "Sure, let me just get someone else to help you then he replied."

A moment later a stocky young Asian man named Joe came around the corner to help me with a big smile on his face. As he got closer I realized he wasn't Asian but his eyes had a lovely teardrop shape and an epicanthic fold. And why was he so darned happy to be at Petco when I was all ticked off about it? It took me a moment but I realized that he had Down Syndrome (or something closely related).

(I'll behave poorly after the jump)

I said to him, "Could you please get me that hamster, and then when that guy is done he can help me get everything else I need."

Clearly not seeing just how rude and dismissive I was Joe said, "I have hamsters, they're such great pets."

"Isn't that nice." And I sorta twirled my hair (yes, I was in a mood), "This one is for my son's birthday."

"How old is he?"

"He'll be seven tomorrow."

"Oh, I wish my Mom would have gotten me a hamster for my birthday when I was seven. They're really great pets and they're so much fun to play with." He went on and on excitedly and I was struck dumb. I had the most remarkable opportunity. I could speak candidly with someone at my child's emotional level. Listening to Joe talk, he had all the unencumbered joy of a seven year old. Even better, a seven year old who isn't self conscious.

Oh no! I'd been Queen Bitch to someone else's child while I was worried about a 2 ounce rodent with a questionable central nervous system being required to live in a box. This is not who I am willing to be.

"Um, Joe, what sort of cage do you have for your hamsters?"

We spent a few minutes talking about the cages before settling on one. I picked up the box and put it in my cart. "Ma'am," he asked, "do you think we could put the cage together here? It's a lot of fun and we're allowed to put them together for you."

"Okay." I heard myself saying. Can I tell you, though, that I never met a surface I didn't want to scrub. The floors at Petco are disgusting. I didn't want to be there but I wasn't done spending time with Joe. He and I ended up assembling a hamster cage in the basket section of the shopping cart. Also, Joe didn't really know how to assemble the cage, he just thought it would be fun. I assembled the cage, Joe told me it was fun. You know something? He was right.

Joe picked out a few doodads for the hamster and for my son. I left the store with the perfect birthday gift, a smile on my face and a newfound appreciation for childhood, in all it's various forms.

Jessica Gottlieb is raising two children in Los Angeles, and she writes about it at Jessica Gottlieb. This is an original post to the Los Angeles Moms Blog.