When I was a little kid, I used to visit my grandparents' house in semi-rural
Wisconsin, where I live now. We frequently had various
wild animals appearing near our house, simply because the
forest was so close. For
example, one
Christmas morning, I looked out to see deer
hoofprints in the snow on the deck. Naturally, I took this as
proof of the existence of
Santa Claus.
Now on to the possum-related story. One night, I was sitting in the bedroom with my grandpa, and we saw a possum outside of the sliding door, just sitting there. I, being approximately 5 years old, was completely enthralled. Imagine my surprise when, a few minutes later, my father declared that there was another possum at the front door. I dashed over and looked through the little window on the side. He was right, there was another one. I ran back through the house and returned again to the bedroom, and there was still a possum at that door, too.
Being a perceptive child, I recognized the possibility that this could just be an extremely fast possum which was running at an insane speed from the bedroom door to the front door. I raced back to the front door and stared intently at the "new" possum, making sure it didn't run away. "Grampa!!" I yelled. "Is the other possum still there?" "Yes, it is, sweetheart!" he responded.
Satisfied in my possum-counting skills, I proudly trooped back to the bedroom as my parents tried not to laugh.