I believe pets are an important part of growing up.

Pets teach children all kinds of lessons: about digestion ("I can't believe you fed him that ... OH NO!"), about cleanliness ("Just let the dog lick the plates clean!"), about hygiene ("No, only cats can lick themselves. You have to take a bath!") and about responsibility ("You're cleaning that up!").

I had a number of pets throughout my younger years:

« Scruffy. He was an adorable brown mutt. He would let me curl my finger in his fur. And then he got tired of that and started digging up my mom's garden, and then he went to live with some unknown "uncle" who lived in the country.

« Shabby. A cute little Maltese who often bit my annoying sister. I loved that dog.

« Guido. My long-haired hamster. He was the first pet that was actually "mine." He wasn't very social. In fact, it took me a week before I noticed he was dead.

« Max. My cat who was my traveling buddy when I moved from California to New Mexico and back home to Colorado. He was a stupid cat. I'm pretty sure he thought he was a dog. But he did teach me one thing: I'm now allergic to most anything with fur.

Those were the main pets. There have been some short-timers. My wife and I had a pet -- a wild turtle that actually escaped from us before we could name him (or her). My sons have had goldfish that grew to the size of small whales before they died. And then my sons got some hermit crabs, but those pesky little boogers insisted on strange things like being fed, so they didn't last.

For some reason, my sons have now decided they need a pet again.

They'd like a dog, but they know it will kill me because of my allergies. Despite this (or possibly because of it), they still want a dog.

But they know that's not going to happen. So they continued down the animal food chain through all the critters with fur to the ones with scales. My wife will have none of that. And they finally settled on ones with feathers.

A parrot specifically.

In fact my oldest son has already figured out what he would do with a parrot.

His plan is to get the parrot (he thinks that's the easy part) and then train the parrot to drop stones in a bucket. He then plans to sign up for the school talent show (which I think he thinks pays as well as "American Idol") and then show the world this parrot who would act out some strange Aesop's Fable story. My son then plans to revel in the glory of the moment as he is hoisted on the shoulders of his fellow elementary school peers as they sing his praises for the months leading up to the end of school.

There are only a few problems with his plan, of course:

1. You can't train a parrot to do squat.

2. If your talent performance hinges on Aesop's Fables, it's doomed to fail.

3. Elementary schoolers don't hoist people on their shoulders. It's usually more of a wedgie thing, as I recall.

4. Finally, he ain't getting a parrot.

I'd love for my sons to have a pet. But between my wife and me, we are allergic to all the "fun" pets. And we're freaked by the "exotic" ones.

So, I guess my sons will, by not getting a pet, learn one of life's greatest lessons: Parents ruin all the fun!

Jared Fiel, author of "Fumbling Thru Fatherhood," is a former newspaper reporter and editor who now takes orders from his wife and two sons. Visit www.fumblingfather.com for more foolishness.

The Tribune - Reader Submissions

I kind of take exception to number 1.) there, someone should set this man straight, lol.