When I was nine years old, I really wanted a hamster. I kept wishing for a brown and white hamster, whom I'd get a lovely habitat full of play-things and treats and a nice warm nest of hay. I'd sure create a good life for him and I, It'd be me and Mr. Hamster against the world, Mr. Hamster and I. Sadly, my mother was allergic to hamsters, so I was never able to fulfill my wishes. Now, at my age of 20 years, I assume it would be unacceptable to own a furry friend. I'm awfully sad.