No, I do not have a strange affinity toward one of the ugliest creatures in all creation. The cotton opossum is a symbol for everything that does not turn out right. I'm sure the golden monkey, the rat, and the tiger from your Chinese takeout menu are more recognizable as symbolic animals, however, in our house all we have to say is "cotton opossum," and it becomes clear that something is messed up!
The year of the cotton opossum, 2008, of course was not forecast as the grand year of disasters. Everyone (whom I would like to meet some day) says the first year of marriage is the hardest, but I did not realize that included just trying to stay alive. After our one month anniversary was spent with me in the ICU, and several other grand disasters, it became clear that this was going to be an exciting journey as husband and wife.
It was after I was home and able to bathe myself again, and therefore not reek, that my loving husband inhaled deeply and said, "Wow, you smell good! What is that?" Rather than hearing my simple answer of Cotton Blossom, he half fell over with what he understood to be Cotton Opossum. And of course we DO have a history with opossums, which made my decision to wear the vial animal's line of fragrance incomprehensible.
"Cotton Opossum!? What?" he said. And in that moment Cotton Opossum summed up the way this year was going.
Close, but all wrong.
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