Many thanks to those who chimed in and offered creative (and surprisingly theological) suggestions for cushioning Scooter from the blow of Shrimpy’s demise. I was pleased to discover that I am the first (and surprisingly, only) person in the history of the internet to use the phrase “regenerate tadpole.” In the end, we elected to expose Scooter to the harsh realities of this present age and informed her of Shrimpy’s passing.
Here is how Scooter found out:
The Scene:
The family is driving home from the church after picking Scooter up from pre-teen camp. Kadie is driving (Taran is at work). Squealer (age 3) is “singing” the music for Sesame Street at the top of his lungs, oblivious to the drama about to unfold. Kadie turns the music up to try to cover up Squealer’s (increasingly loud) voice. The girls sit on either side of Squealer.
Skeeter (age 7): “Scooter, when we get home I have a surprise for you…”
Scooter (age 10): “Oh good! I love surprises”
Skeeter: “Well, it’s a bad surprise”
Scooter: “A bad surprise?"
Skeeter: "A very bad surprise."
Scooter, noting Skeeter's expression, "Oh no! What is it? Are Trixie, Boots (our puppies) and Shrimpy still alive?”
Silence…silence…
Mom's voice from the front seat: “Well, … Boots and Trixie are.”
Followed by much wailing and weeping. All the while Squealer is warbling the Sesame Street theme song at 400 decibels.
Now fast-forward ahead in time some, thirty years:
The Scene:
A doctor’s office. A worried patient is awaiting the results of his lab work. The doctor walks in.
Dr. Skeeter (37): “Mr. Jones, I have a surprise for you…”
Showing posts with label Pet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pet. Show all posts
Friday, July 14, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Digital Invective
The echocardiogram revealed that Scooter's heart has a small bit of seepage among the chambers, but apparently that is true for most people. Her doctor's nurse indicated that her heart is fine. Apparently she is prone to fainting spells (if prone means once every three years or so) . I very much appreciate all of those who prayed for her well-being. It is a blessing to hear from brothers in Christ you never knew you had.
Pardon the following extended rant. I don't rant well. Go read Spleen or Screeds for some real quality rage. I’m hoping that the transformation of my rage to pixels will allow it to mellow and depart. (Actually, as I type this now a day later, I'm doing fine). Be aware that there is nothing in what follows that will be either redemptive or edifying.
Caveat lector.
Yesterday began with a severe lack of sleep from the night before. My bride is working evenings right now and our quality time for a “daily dialogue” is between the hours of 11 pm and 12 am.
When I arrived at work Monday morning I discovered that my 5 day old computer hard drive had crashed. Frustration mounted as I realized that I was going to have to reconstruct some documents for a 9:00 meeting. I did complete some of the work, but at the cost of my sanity.
In the meeting we discussed how we would apportion a 5% raise that is the first raise our state legislature has passed in six years. As a colleague of mine said after the meeting, “I feel like we’re a bunch of skinny rats fighting over a crust of bread.”
Following the rat meeting, I found out that an insurance company had not received my medical records from my doctor’s office despite the fact that they have faxed them repeatedly. I went by the doctor’s office and said to the secretary “I need some help dealing with an idiot insurance company.” She replied “Most of them are” and graciously rendered assistance. Then I reminded myself not to use the word idiot.
When I returned to my office, I had a hostile student waiting to talk with me about one of his classes. For a department chair, this is not unusual. Probably four or five times a semester I’ll have a student come by to register a complaint or just vent about their classes. But our conversation revealed that his was a class he took TWO years ago. He had one of my colleagues for the class and wanted to protest his “F”. After an extended conversation revealed that he had not even spoken with his professor first, I encouraged him to do so.
Ironically, while Dave was spending some time with Psalm 78, I was turning to Psalm 30, a beautiful thanksgiving psalm which helped a lot. I then decided to start on my sermon for Sunday (our pastor is attending a conference next weekend, in that state, and he foolishly asked me to preach in his stead). I’ve never written a sermon when I was mad before, and I look forward to seeing how it turns out.
When I arrived at home I noted Shrimpy’s passing. I was unsure if s/he was sleeping or dead, but when I put him/her in the water, s/he floated upside down. Scooter is at pre-teen camp through Friday, so I have until then to figure out how to break the news to her. The time honored sit-com solution (going out and buying a new tadpole) is not an option because Skeeter saw the corpse. Maybe Shrimpy could “get better” all of the sudden…hmm.
Then after dinner I hustled Squealer off to bed and got ready to end my day. I vegged with my new issue of Christianity Today and my old issue of Sports Illustrated from last week.
Then, around 9:45, as I began to drift off to sleep the phone rang. It was the student. The student from earlier. The one asking about his grade. The one who had waited for two years, but couldn’t wait until 8:00 the next morning when I’d be back in the office. We conversed. I encouraged him to come by the office Tuesday morning. He did.
I’ll tell you about my meeting with him tomorrow.
Pardon the following extended rant. I don't rant well. Go read Spleen or Screeds for some real quality rage. I’m hoping that the transformation of my rage to pixels will allow it to mellow and depart. (Actually, as I type this now a day later, I'm doing fine). Be aware that there is nothing in what follows that will be either redemptive or edifying.
Caveat lector.
Yesterday began with a severe lack of sleep from the night before. My bride is working evenings right now and our quality time for a “daily dialogue” is between the hours of 11 pm and 12 am.
When I arrived at work Monday morning I discovered that my 5 day old computer hard drive had crashed. Frustration mounted as I realized that I was going to have to reconstruct some documents for a 9:00 meeting. I did complete some of the work, but at the cost of my sanity.
In the meeting we discussed how we would apportion a 5% raise that is the first raise our state legislature has passed in six years. As a colleague of mine said after the meeting, “I feel like we’re a bunch of skinny rats fighting over a crust of bread.”
Following the rat meeting, I found out that an insurance company had not received my medical records from my doctor’s office despite the fact that they have faxed them repeatedly. I went by the doctor’s office and said to the secretary “I need some help dealing with an idiot insurance company.” She replied “Most of them are” and graciously rendered assistance. Then I reminded myself not to use the word idiot.
When I returned to my office, I had a hostile student waiting to talk with me about one of his classes. For a department chair, this is not unusual. Probably four or five times a semester I’ll have a student come by to register a complaint or just vent about their classes. But our conversation revealed that his was a class he took TWO years ago. He had one of my colleagues for the class and wanted to protest his “F”. After an extended conversation revealed that he had not even spoken with his professor first, I encouraged him to do so.
Ironically, while Dave was spending some time with Psalm 78, I was turning to Psalm 30, a beautiful thanksgiving psalm which helped a lot. I then decided to start on my sermon for Sunday (our pastor is attending a conference next weekend, in that state, and he foolishly asked me to preach in his stead). I’ve never written a sermon when I was mad before, and I look forward to seeing how it turns out.
When I arrived at home I noted Shrimpy’s passing. I was unsure if s/he was sleeping or dead, but when I put him/her in the water, s/he floated upside down. Scooter is at pre-teen camp through Friday, so I have until then to figure out how to break the news to her. The time honored sit-com solution (going out and buying a new tadpole) is not an option because Skeeter saw the corpse. Maybe Shrimpy could “get better” all of the sudden…hmm.
Then after dinner I hustled Squealer off to bed and got ready to end my day. I vegged with my new issue of Christianity Today and my old issue of Sports Illustrated from last week.
Then, around 9:45, as I began to drift off to sleep the phone rang. It was the student. The student from earlier. The one asking about his grade. The one who had waited for two years, but couldn’t wait until 8:00 the next morning when I’d be back in the office. We conversed. I encouraged him to come by the office Tuesday morning. He did.
I’ll tell you about my meeting with him tomorrow.
Monday, July 10, 2006
The Sooner the Finished the Better
And no, that's not another Oklahoma reference. It is in reference to today. Today has been most bilious. This is a Monday that cannot end soon enough.
No news on Scooter. Her doctor gets the test results tomorrow…but doesn’t work on Tuesdays, so we might find out something on Wednesday.
My computer hard drive died today.
Not to be outdone, Shrimpy also decided to died.
More tomorrow.
No news on Scooter. Her doctor gets the test results tomorrow…but doesn’t work on Tuesdays, so we might find out something on Wednesday.
My computer hard drive died today.
Not to be outdone, Shrimpy also decided to died.
More tomorrow.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Shockingly It Thrives!!!
In order to respond to the thousands of requests one, prompted, request for an update, I will now let you all know how our tadpole is doing. Although we have two real pets, puppies Trixie and Boots, we have also acquired an unwanted amphibian by the name of Shrimpy. (I looked back at the original post and apparently it had not yet been named. Scooter chose the name, which Shrimpy continues to live up to.) I personally think that Shrimpy is too close to an edible name, but it has stuck.
But despite my dark threats, assumptions about the girl's attention span, and presence of Squealer looking
menacingly down upon the creature, Shrimpy remains well. S/he continues to grow and has sprouted little legs. S/he looks roughly like this one. Except that the girls keep Shrimpy's water cleaner.
I still am pessimistic about the animal's survival chances, but we shall see.
Just more of the useless archana that makes our lives so meaningful.
But despite my dark threats, assumptions about the girl's attention span, and presence of Squealer looking
menacingly down upon the creature, Shrimpy remains well. S/he continues to grow and has sprouted little legs. S/he looks roughly like this one. Except that the girls keep Shrimpy's water cleaner.I still am pessimistic about the animal's survival chances, but we shall see.
Just more of the useless archana that makes our lives so meaningful.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
The New Pet
I came home top find a new creature living in our home. It is a tadpole. Apparently Scooter’s teacher gave several to various members of the class on the last day of the semester.Well then.
We were not asked by her teacher, and I’m not sure about the ethics of trafficking in amphibian life. It is slightly aggravating. We cannot return it to her, unless her address can be found at Tadpole Food”. Who knew such a thing existed?!
Fortunately, I do not conceive of this as a long term problem. I give him about another six days. Ten tops.
Natural selection does not favor tadpoles coexisting long with three year olds.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)