Project Junction

As a parenting lesson learned, I said that I would never let a tiny turtle back in my house. However, my personal biography says “I love turtles.” My daughter Katie, noting the contradiction asked, “Which is it, do you love or hate turtles?”

Here’s my explanation. We have a box turtle that lives in our garden. I never feed that turtle. I never clean his aquarium. He’s very low maintenance. I haven’t even burned any mind calories giving him a name. My only obligation to that box turtle is to check under my truck tires and make sure that I don’t run over him when I back out of my driveway. I love that turtle.

“I have no respect for turtles on welfare.”

Katie’s turtle, Franklin, on the other hand was a Trojan horse. He entered my home the size of a quarter in a plastic dish that cost $1.99. We’ve since spent over $100 to upgrade his abode. Franklin consumes large quantities of expensive turtle food. And he poops that expensive food all over his expensive home. There’s not a filter system in the world that can keep pace with his effluence.

Franklin is a turtle on steroids. I swear she’s bred that mutant turtle just to keep me out of her room. I’m scared to step inside with Franklin standing guard.

So the short story is that I do love turtles. I love every self sufficient turtle that lives outside of my home.