The snake smells with its forked tongue. Similarly, we smell with a bifurcated orifice (our nose). That was just one of a billion things we learned.
The last night that we were in Chicago my brother-in-law orchestrated something that made my brain hurt it was so informative, and informative in that good way when you're actually working hard to trap everything because it's all so interesting. There is a couple that he and his wife know who both have their PhD's in Ecology and their home is a natural history museum/zoo. Although it was a school night and Mr. Ecology probably would have preferred to get his own kiddos in bed, and/or relax after having spent the day putting up a new exhibit at the museum where he works, and/or get started on something that he had to submit to the university that he's affiliated with, he spent over an hour showing us snakes and fish and turtles (did you know that North American turtles are really the only turtles that retract their necks straight back? Most turtles retract to the side -- we saw it -- the kids all got to feed it). Oh, and another fascinating turtle fact -- the shell is really comprised of the same bones that we have -- the back being ribs all fused together with the spine, and the front being the fused sternum. As he held up the empty turtle shell to show us it completely made sense. Will that be one of the facts that my kids just always have... one of those things that seems like common knowledge because you've always known it?
"It's a clean, if deep puncture." Mr. Ecology
"You completely heal at 42 hours." Ecology Spawn
"Have you received a snake bite?" Me
"Of course." Mr. Ecology, Spawn 1, Spawn 2
"Wow." Brother-in-law
"It bleeds a lot at first, but it won't scar. So. Who wants to hold the snake?" Mr Ecology
There was none of that mambsy-pambsy business with the handler holding the snake and the kid using one figure to pet the back. Each kid had the sucker wrapped around his/her neck and each was taught to try to support the snake's head. At one point one of the Ecology Spawn got a little nervous and Mr. Ecology reminded her sternly, "You think of the snake first; yourself second. You are in the position of care-taker right now and you act responsibly." I almost made a joke about how often the position of care-taker is horizontal, but I refrained.
Quite a few snakes were brought out, including one enormous sucker that was let down on the carpet and fed a mouse. It was rather grisly. Mr. Ecology said that it teaches children about meat consumption. My daughter asked what that meant later at bedtime (she was pretty ticked about the mouse's role in the science lesson). We talked about how we walk into Trader Joe's and toss a package of bacon in the cart, or a restaurant and order a burger. We often don't consider that a living thing was killed any more than that snake did. Just as Mr. Ecology didn't add a particular spin to it, I tried to keep it very neutral. Nonetheless, a new vegetarian might have come into the world. I might join her.
We talked about the ethics of zoos, the ethics of taxadermy, the ethics of outdoor cats, the ethics of certain legislation.... my favorite part was all the intersection of science and ethics. In case you're wondering, he came down very squarely with Teddy Roosevelt from as near as I can tell (though I've never read anything about Teddy's view on outdoor cats specifically).
Again, it was very generous and spoke to the man's passion for education that he shared so much with us. I think it also spoke to how well-liked my brother-in-law is.
After our brains were saturated we headed over to a yogurt place to meet up with the aunt and oldest cousin who had just finished with a dance lesson. Again, school night, but my in-laws were brilliant about letting the celebrating and together time happen.
The next morning when it was time to leave my daughter started crying hard. She's my crier and she is so fair complected and cries so hard she breaks vessels. One time when we told her that she should stop holding out for a dog because it would probably never happen she cried so hard the next day she looked like she had two shiners. This time she was crying to leave their sweet dog, but there was also a lot of crying for the cousins. Watching her made me start to cry and I couldn't choke out what I wanted to say, "Thank you for being family that makes my daughter so happy that she cries when we leave."
As we drove down the tree-lined street with gold and orange and red leaves blowing around outside the car, and my daughter choking and shuddering inside the car, I thought: we are living our lives.
