I arrived back at the burrow.
“Ah shit!” I said to myself. “I forgot to fix the entrance to the burrow, Susan’s gonna be pissed.”
Better face the music.
I entered the burrow and found the room where Susan was nursing little Gary Junior.
“Mornin’ love,” I said sheepishly.
“It’s the afternoon,” she returned coldly.
“Oh, of course, you’re right. Afternoon, love.”
I didn’t dare try to give her a kiss—too risky. Better to play it neutral.
“Why haven’t you fixed the entrance to the burrow?”
Here we go…
“Oh, I’ve just been flat out today. I’ll get on it first thing tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said defensively.
“And what about food? Find anything out there on your busy day?”
“Nah, this lot’s eskies all had those straps on ‘em, and I don’t have opposable thumbs, so I couldn’t figure it out.”
“You’re full of excuses, aren’t you.”
“What other excuses have I made?”
“Oh, I dunno—how about that time you were caught in the women’s toilets?”
“I…” I fought hard to suppress the tide of anger rising up within me. “I told you…” I said through gritted teeth, “I thought I was… taking a shortcut…”
“And what about that pair of women’s underwear the ranger caught you with?”
“We’ve been over this—that fell on my head as I was trying to get away from there.”
“Do you think I’m stupid!?”
“No, of course not. But do you have any idea how strong our sense of smell is? I was fascinated! I didn’t know what it was—I swear!”
“Yeah right,” she said as she rolled her eyes and continued nursing Gary Junior. “This would never happen with Sharon’s husband.”
This tipped me over the edge. She really knew how to press my buttons.
“Oh here we go again! Always comparing me to the wonderful Barry. Barry the echidna. Barry the provider. You think he’s so perfect with his four-head penis.”
“At least he can open eskies.”
“Oh I bet he can!” I wasn’t sure what I meant by that.
“At least Barry knows how to take care of his family.”
Such a scathing attack was too much for me to handle.
“That’s it!”
I flipped the table. Gary Junior started to cry.
“Now look what you’ve done!”
“Ah, screw this!”
I stormed out of the burrow, furious—furious at her, furious at myself, furious at everything.
As I stormed out, I noticed the incomplete entrance again—a painful reminder of my ineptitude as a husband, as a father.
But she doesn’t know what it’s like out there. It’s a war zone. Cars, trucks, little kids with sticks, foxes, rangers… and not to mention all those packets of chips with their trans fats. I haven’t evolved the metabolism to handle those.
Why are they so God damn irresistible?
Maybe I should just come clean about the underwear incident.
But what should I say? The truth?
That once I caught a whiff of those intoxicating juices of femininity, it sent a lightning bolt through my body—tingling my internal testicles, unravelling my retractable penis, eradicating all semblance of rationality. I was a wombat possessed; my animal nature had gotten the better of me.
Wild-eyed and frothing at the mouth, I descended upon those harbingers of privacy, sanctuaries of defecation, emanators of odours erotic and exotic. And as I saw that thin pink lacy material wrapped around her ankles, an irresistible funk radiating off them, in that moment my mind knew nothing else—except that I had to have them. They had to be mine.
All I remember next is her scream. I panicked.
The sweet prize in my mouth, I ran—ran as fast as I could—and hid in the bushes.
It was Ranger Thomas who found me: drunk in my arousal, reeking of guilt and body fluids. A sickening sight—delirious, eyes glazed over, panties hanging from my mouth.
I spent three days in those cages.
Apart from the thing they clipped to my ear, I was actually treated pretty nicely.
After three days I was allowed to leave and was taken back to my burrow. Ranger Thomas never said a word of it to Susan. He’s a good man—stoic, a firm disciplinarian yet fair. He knows when to cut a wombat some slack.
But word got around. Everyone knew. And then Susan knew.
Things haven’t been the same since.
Gilbert Strauss' Blog 
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