At times, we already head-spinningly busy working parents really do know how to make our lives even busier/more annoying. 
I have done so myself in recent weeks with the undoubtedly foolish decision to become a keeper of pets, as well as children.
Which, in essence, just means giving myself even more sh*t to deal with than before. Quite literally.
When I was growing up, I never had animals, save for goldfish which don’t count because you can’t cuddle them and after about three days, they lie sideways on the bottom of their tank and take their sorry time over leaving for the great big aquarium in the sky.
I finally got a hamster when I was 14, which spent most of its life getting stuck behind furniture, including a lengthy stint in the back of the sofa, and that’s been the extent of my pet ownership.
So I decided, because I didn’t have pets, that my kids would. We can’t have a dog because we aren’t home enough and we can’t have a cat because I can’t handle the ‘presents’ (as in, ‘Here’s a bald, decapitated pigeon to show you how much I love you, I’ll just pop it under the bed until it rots and you finally find it in three weeks’ time’).
A woman holding a grey rabbit to her faceGetty
What have I let myself in for?
So, instead, we got baby bunnies. They are called Mabel, because the name is sweet, and Ziggy, because of all the heartfelt tributes to David Bowie, we thought he’d find having a lop-eared rabbit named after him the most moving, surely. They are cute.
They also poo 10 times a minute, brazenly dropping their droppings (I see now why they are called as such) as they walk/run/leap around the house, as though such behaviour were entirely socially acceptable.
On the day we got them, my daughter also did a poo on the floor, so they are clearly a very positive influence. They currently live indoors as I am scared that, if I banish them to the garden, I will wake up one day to frozen rabbits or the remains of a two-course dinner party attended by the local foxes.
So our house is also covered in bits of sawdust and hay and I have to sweep it even more than the 17 times a day I already did.
And, of course, I am the only family member who will ever clean out their hutch, replenish their water supply or make sure they eat their sprouts (which is even more of a challenge than with my kids because I can’t bribe them with a sticky bun in exchange for a clean plate).
Remind me, someone, why I did this again?

Three other problems with pets and kids:

  • The possibility of my 17-month- old daughter mistaking one of their droppings for a nice bit of chocolate cereal...
  • ...And the possibility of strangulation as she shows them just how much she loves them.
  • The fact that, even though they are both supposedly girls, we have witnessed humping. Please let’s not wake up to 12 baby bunnies any morning soon.