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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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![]() Monday, January 31, 2011 Well Preserved, Part III So after we set up a time for Febrifuge to come over and help with the worm-dissecting, Trash happened to be on the phone with our sister-in-law and happened to mention the upcoming...procedure. Which is when M. Edium's cousin, then-eight-year-old Deniece, asked, "Can I come too?" So by that evening, between several phone calls and a trip to Office Max, we had everything you need to dissect a worm: dead worms, wax paper, pins, a magnifying glass, a razor knife, a Physicians Assistant, and a third-grade girl. Febrifuge had come prepared. In addition to a little cork pad and some additional tools (I almost said "utensils"), he'd also brought a camera to take the photos you see in this entry, printed MapQuest directions for the inside of a worm, rubber gloves, and -- best of all, if you ask me -- his old lab coat, which he gave to M. Edium. So that's something my kid has in common with the young Flint Lockwood. When it was time to get started, I positioned myself on the far side of the kitchen, with a center island between me and any viscera. Don't judge me, though. Trash went all the way upstairs. The kids, though, were there for the duration. Never once did they show any intention or even desire to flee. ![]() But as you can see from the number of pins they used, the worm tried to make a run for it. I'm not going to throw up close-ups up the dissected worm up here, but it's not because Feb didn't take any. It's just because I don't want to make you throw up. But I'd have to say that every meaningful sense -- the most meaningful being that I had to have almost nothing to do with it -- the worm-dissecting was a complete success. ![]() Except for one thing. In our downstairs freezer, we now have one dead frog and eleven dead earthworms. A week later, Trash was cleaning out the kitchen freezer and asked me to take a few items downstairs. I said the downstairs freezer was full. "But you said last week there was plenty of room," she reminded me. "That was before the frog and the worms were down there," I explained. "They don't take up that much space," she scoffed. "They take up a lot of psychological space," I said. Oddly, though, I've kind of gotten used to them. M. Edium has talked about doing more dissections in the future, but I think a more likely -- and frankly, not undesirable -- outcome is that they'll just sink to the bottom of the freezer, never to be seen again until either the freezer breaks down or we move. And one of those will have to happen before I die, because I don't want to end up in there with them. I take up a lot of psychological space too. posted by M. Giant 6:37 PM 4 comments 4 Comments:
I don't even want to tell you what kinds of things lurked in our downstairs freezer when I was a kid. By Heather, at February 2, 2011 at 9:26 AM
Having gotten to dissect eyeballs twice (primary school and secondary) I can tell you that they do make for cool dissections. Even if they still did squick me out a bit. OK, a lot. It was because they kept looking at you... yep, still squicks me out. By February 2, 2011 at 4:27 PM , at
You guys are great parents, to indulge the curiosity. Look at those smiles! By Brandee, at February 7, 2011 at 2:27 PM Cutest dissection of a dead thing ever. By Bunny, at February 8, 2011 at 11:53 AM ![]() ![]() |
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