UM

There is a skunk the size of a small dog in our garage. I repeat: there is a skunk in our garage.

Boy (matter-of-factly): There is a skunk in our garage.

Me (as if you just told me I had the plague): WHAT?!

Boy (still calm): There is a skunk in our garage.

Me (not fooled by his reverie): We should call animal control

Boy (smiling): Nah, he's fine. Come look at it.

Me (not smiling): WHAT?

Boy (as if he is asking me to observe a cuddly kitten): Come on, look at it, it's hiding.

Me (loosing my mind for a second): Okay.

And so I looked, but I didn't see it right away and I refuse to go any closer to the entrance of our detached garage than 10 feet, so the skunk can remain hiding until The Boy allows me to call animal control.

I will keep you updated.