Early this morning, I did a cursory check for slugs and snails in the front yard on my way back from retrieving the newspapers. I found a rather large snail who had been munching on my prized alyssum, and with no regard for life, I tossed him (or her?) into the street.
After my 10-year-old daughter woke up, I made the mistake of mentioning the incident.
See below the funeral in the middle of the street we held for the snail (which had been subsequently crushed by a car tire) as well as my daughter's message for me in her expression about killing animals.
Boy, do I love that kid.