The Slime

I hate snails.  I really really hate them.  Time and again they have reduced an abundant crop of seedlings to nothing in the space of a few dark hours.  I detest snails so much that I can even bring myself to squish them with my fingers; well, the teeny weeny baby ones and with gardening gloves on. I am not the Bear Gryllis of the Upper North Shore Urban Farming set.  No siree.

But yes, I do slaughter baby snails with my gloved hands.  You read that right.

So imagine, if you will, my joy, my unfettered delight, when my children, eyes alight with excitement come tearing inside yesterday waving a tupperware container.
"We caught a snail."
"Its our new pet."
"We love it."
"How can you tell if snails are boys or girls?"

I rolled my eyes and promptly forgot about it until this morning, at around 6.30am when there were cries of horror from the playroom.
The snail had escaped.
Not a moment could be lost, Mummy AND Daddy must immediately IMMEDIATELY commence a search and rescue mission.
What if the dog had eaten it??
(The dog gets sniffy about eating gourmet dog food, so there wasn't much chance).

You interrupted my nap to ask if I ate a what??
And get that camera out of my face, my ears are all messy

Anyhoo, after a brief struggle the snail was recaptured.  It was making a bid for freedom across the kitchen bench (yes, ewwww), and had made pretty impressive progress from its container in the playroom.

After being christened The Slime, our snail was then re-incarcerated in its container, this time with a lid and a few leaves for company.

The newest family member

And now I find myself in the awkward position of having responsibility for my arch enemy.  Maybe I'll get stockholm syndrome and start to relate to snails and even love them.  Maybe I'll become The Mad Snail Lady.

Or maybe The Slime will escape again tonight from its sealed container and find itself having a new life in the garden of that neighbour with the wretched endlessly yapping Pomeranian.

Maybe.

:)

Updated to add:  My husband read this post and said, "What about the slug?"
"The slug???"
"Yes there was a slug in there.  It escaped too."
"But you found it?"
"Not exactly."