dead possum brownies

Last summer David and I had a misadventure with a dead possum. For those who don't know, a possum, or opossum if you want the correct term, is North America's only marsupial. They look like big balding rats.

One Saturday morning last summer I went for a morning run while David and Leo were at Leo's swim lesson. When I got home, I went in the backyard for some reason, and just outside the back door I saw a large, dead possum. Since David has lived here nearly all of his life, I waited until he was home to ask how we should get rid of the body. Our concern was that it might have been rabid, since there has been a number of rabid wild animals around here lately. He called the animal control department, and in the past they would pick up dead animals, but with the budget cuts during this recession they no longer do that. So we decided to put it in the trashcan. We didn't want to pick it up with our hands, so we went to get our shovel. We looked everywhere in our garage and couldn't find the shovel anywhere. So David called his mom, who lives about 3 miles away and asked if we could come over and borrow her shovel. She was about to leave to run errands so offered to bring it over.

When she arrived, we lead her to the backyard, explaining that we couldn't find our shovel anywhere. As she stepped out the back door, she turned her head and said "You mean this shovel?" We looked and there was our shovel leaning against the house. I must have walked right by it three or more times that morning. We were both embarrassed.

So we double bagged the possum into trash bags. But then David had a thought. Our trash is picked up on Friday, so wouldn't be picked up again for six days. A dead possum in the trash in our garage in the summer when 100 degree heat isn't uncommon would smell really bad quickly. He knew that his mom's trash is picked up on Monday, so in only two days. So he asked his mom what type of bribe it would require for her to take the possum home and put it in her trash. She said that if we fed her lunch that she would do it. So we made her lunch, and she sat and read to Leo as they ate together. After lunch we thought that we should offer her dessert, and David had baked a batch of brownies that morning using a new recipe. So he gave her the whole batch of brownies. Later he wanted some himself, so he baked another batch. When they were done, he asked if we wanted some "dead possum brownies." That's now become the name of that brownie recipe. So if any of my readers ever come to visit, we'll offer you dead possum brownies.

Jimmy, I told you that I would send you this story in an email, but it was too good not to share, We really aren't the space cadets that you might think from this story. David actually has a PhD. But his field of study wasn't possums or finding lost shovels.