Snails

Two snails have died – I had to throw their frothy carcasses into the hedge. Tonight Violet took her surviving snail off to have a bath with her. She left it to slide, then thought better of it, and plucking it off the tiles, dropped it into the bath. It bobbed, sucked up inside its shell, until I came to rescue it. She wanted to take it to dinner, but Otto’s snail phobia had been incubating throughout the day, and he started yelling at the top of his voice. I put the snail in her room, waiting for her to come to bed.

Later, when she was tucked up with it, she called to me. ‘Mummy, the snail isn’t sleeping.’ I went in to look, and the snail was writhing, shell between her fingers, looking like it was trying to eat its tail. I convinced her that snails preferred to sleep outside and put it on the doorstep next to the cat food bowl. Perhaps the snail will figure out how to come back inside again – Violet has renamed the cat door ‘the snail flap’ .