I think the opossum is now just toying with my mind. Three days ago I was on my way to my parents, and he scuttled across the road. I had to remind him that I would not aid him in death. Then tonight on my way home, he was there again. I picture Otto (that's his name, I've decided) waiting every night at the side of the road. Sometimes I don't visit my parents for three or four days (depending on the status of dishes (read the 5/5 post) and laundry), so he waits all night long. Sometimes not eating. Then when I do come, he readies himself, wiggles his butt, and darts out onto the road, only to be shunned by my humane-ness. No, Otto, no matter how hard you try, I will not kill you. So, please go home to your wife and kids.