The evening of the Curry Tsunami started off innocently enough.
Gerry had obviously had a normal kind of Gerbil day...get up, drink a bit out his space bottle, have a spin on his wheel, little bit of food..maybe quick spin in space buggy...little sleepy wrapped in cotton wool....some more food...you know...the usual gerbil routine..
Although clearly Gerry had other ideas that evening..
He was sooo up for an adventure it wasn't even funny...
Hahaha...actually...I lie...it was sort of funny in an "all wells that ends well" way..
Anyway..
It was a Saturday night and I had cooked a lovely curry, left the pan in the sink filled with water to soak and went through to the lounge to watch a dvd and drink wine.
You know. Normal stuff.
Bottle of wine later I decide to pop back into the kitchen to replenish supplies.
Am pottering round the kitchen when out the corner of my eye I spot something unusual lying by the sink..
It took a moment for my brain to catch up with my eyes.
It was Gerry the gerbil. Soaking wet. Gasping for breath.
I ran over to the sink...kind of like a slow mo Baywatch run. Clearly I didn't have a red swim suit on as was in pyjamas.
NotQuiteSupermom: *slow mo* "Nooooooooo...Geeeerrrryyyyy..."
Gerry: *gasp*
As I was doing my 2 metre slow mo Baywatch run across the kitchen I tried to establish the facts. Gerry had clearly escaped. He also obviously:
A. likes swimming in curry water
B. Likes curry
C. Needs glasses as he couldn't see where he was going and accidentally plopped off the kitchen side into the pan in the sink
or D. He is an adrenaline junkie and the space buggy just isnt enough excitement for him anymore.
I wrap his teeny weeny curry smelling body in a tea towel and start stroking him. He smelt really spicy.
Just then he took one long drawn out breath....and then..nothing....
NotquiteSupermom: *wailing* "Nooooo...Gerry...dont die, dont die, come on Gerry..fight"
NotquiteSupermom *in her head to herself* "Oh bugger..I dont want to do CPR on a gerbil. I wouldnt even know how and there is no time to Google it.."
I run through to the lounge, clutching his lifeless body in the tea towel.
Notquitesupermom: *crying hysterically* "Mr G, Mr G, its Gerry. Hes dead."
Mr G: *slowly peeling his eyes away fom the film..as he is used to dealing with a hysterical wife* "Sorry..what? Whats happened?"
Notquitesupermom *gasping for breath as she had run oooohh all of 4 metres* "Gerry.... Curry.... Pan.... Sink.... Water... Dead."
Mr G: "Have you tried CPR?"
NotquiteSupermom: "Erm..... No.... You do it."
NotquiteSupermom: *sobbing relentlessly and starting a eulogy* "He was the nicest Gerbil anyone could ever have..look at his beautiful little nose..and his tiny curry smelling body..*stroking him*...remember the time he drove into the skirting board in his space buggy and nearly knocked himself out?..Oh..Gerry..always living on the edge...I suppose it was only a matter of time before his passion for excitement got the better of him..he was such a happy little gerbil..I only hope he didnt suffer too much and died doing what he loved best......."
Just then a miracle occured.
Gerry suddenly sprang back to life.
UNFORTUNATELY for Gerry..I wasn't quite expecting this turn of events.
I screamed and threw him up into the air.
He landed with a soggy "splat" on the carpet.
Mr G: "Well..if he wasn't dead before..I'd say he probably is now."
Luckily for me, just as I was contemplating:
A. How to dispose of the body and cover my tracks
B. How on earth to explain to the children that Gerry was dead and it was ALL MY FAULT...
... another act of divine intervention occurred.
Gerry clambered up onto his feet..gave me a really really dirty look (potentially he didnt rate my curry making skills as highly as I did)...and scurried off under the sofa.
It took a while after that incident for Gerry to find it in his heart to forgive me...but I think he knew I didnt mean it...just that sudden movements from dead gerbils can give you a bit of a shock..
