The Death of Cheeseburger

When last we left, Cheeseburger was sitting on our kitchen counter, spared by Joseph's mercy from being buried alive in our trash can. Amy and I discussed Cheeseburger's fate. I had a strong suspicion that come morning, Joseph would totally have forgotten Cheeseburger and so I suggested we put Cheeseburger out of sight, lest Joseph find him in the morning and rekindle their relationship.

Thus, Cheeseburger was exiled to a little spot in the corner near the kitchen sink, hidden behind various kitchen supplies to spend the remainder of his days. He didn't do much. I checked on him a couple of times to see how he was doing, and he was always just sitting there in the same spot, wearing his strawberry hat.

As expected, Joseph completely forgot about Cheeseburger. When I surreptitiously asked Amy whether Joseph had asked about Cheeseburger during the day, she told me he had not. Rather than send Cheeseburger to his doom immediately, we thought we'd give him one more day to be sure.

I can only say that I'm glad Joseph - being a typical four-year-old - forgot about Cheeseburger. I cannot imagine Cheeseburger's life had Joseph kept up the relationship. Cheeseburger would have grown old and stale, his strawberry hat would have wilted. Undoubtedly, Cheeseburger would have felt disappointed when he couldn't participate in running around or playing Nintendo with Joseph. His disappointment would have turned into bitterness, and his life would have been miserable, and his relationship with Joseph would have gone downhill from there. It was better for both of them that Joseph forgot about him.

I came home today and found Cheeseburger gone from his place of exile, and I can only assume that he passed away some time this afternoon and was laid to rest. Joseph seems in good spirits, and life goes on...except for Cheeseburger and his little strawberry hat.