Scream!

We were planning Troy’s fifth birthday party, and we decided to do an animal party, where an agency brings animals to the house for the kids to look at and touch. They have different packages that you can purchase, and with each one, you can pick the animals you want them to bring. As my wife and I perused the list, one animal stood out, not because it looked particularly unusual, but because of its name. It was the Dwarf Screaming Hairy Armadillo.

Me: “What makes an armadillo scream?”
My Wife: “I dunno. It’s scared?”
Me: “And what do you think it sounds like?”
My Wife: “Maybe loud and high-pitched?”
Me: “So, we’re going to bring this tiny armadillo into a house full of hopped up four and five-year olds and let them all crowd around him and touch him? And what’s he going to do every time he sees someone new?”

Armadillo [emanating a loud high-pitched scream]: “Oh my god! Who is that?!”
Armadillo [another scream]: “Ah! There’s more of you!”
Armadillo [another scream]: “Who just touched me?! Someone touched me?! There will be no touching the armadillo, people!”
Me: “Awww, he’s so little.”
Armadillo [another scream]: “What the…?! Where did you come from?! Don’t sneak up on me like that! Holy cow, you’re massive! No, no, stop it! Stop manhandling me! Oh wait, this is kind of nice. You’re really warm. Oh, that’s the spot…right there…oh yeah.”