To Number One Son, who is nine today. I wasn’t worried a bit, since I remember my own parents wondering if I was going to live past 8 years old myself – seems to be that magical "you’re going to get yourself killed" age. Nine years old – make it nine more and you’re outta here, kid.
It’s good to have goals, particularly if you’re a young, impressionable, gonzo 8-yr-old like Number One Son. Coming up on the end of second grade, he’s declared his major – Pre Med. He’s decided that he really wants to be a surgeon when he grows up. (His idea of a good time is watching "Trauma: Life in the ER" and he can’t understand why none of us want to watch with him over dinner.) Never missing a chance to reinforce a lesson, I told him that he is capable of becoming a surgeon if he wants to – all he has to do is study extra hard and get the best grades in all his math and science classes. I agreed to buy his first set of scalpels if he gets into Med school.
It eventually occured to me to ask him why he wants to be a surgeon. "Well," says my son the doctor, "I want to see graphic blood and gore. Also, I want to give my sister [the Reigning Queen of Pink] a lobotomy so she won’t be so annoying."
I suppose "at least he’s not just in it for the money" is sort of a consolation – sort of like a psychopath joining the army to be a sniper, do what you’re best at. At least he’ll be able to take care of his parents in our old age, or at least get us prescription samples on the cheap.
To the Spouse of the Big Ugly Man Doll! She’s another year more wonderful; each year she gets older and I get luckier to be married to her. Happy Birthday!
The children learn many things from SOBUMD and myself, and – usually – this is a good thing. Learning being a two-way street, we learn many things from them also. When they were younger, many of these things involved measures of distance, measures of volume, and human orafices – stuff that I had never really wanted to know, but useful knowledge nonetheless. (I now know how far away you might want to stand from the business end of a baby who’s eaten more mushed fruit than might have been advisable. It’s a greater distance than I would have guessed.)
But most of that is in the past, and now they bring us interesting tidbits from their own lives. The Human Tape Recorder recommends books for me, which I still find faintly incredible – she’s become a decent judge of whether or not I’ll enjoy a story she’s read, and she’s often right. I find that impressive in a 10-yr-old, even mine.
Number One Son has been teaching me to play with an on-line simulator called Dust: http://dan-ball.jp/en/javagame/dust/, which is both more fun and more addicting than solitare. In return, I’ve explained to him why some of the items that one can configure and act upon in the game have the properties they do. For instance, we’ve learned that if you sprinkle water on top of seeds, then add some wind, the seeds will grow. Often they will grow better following a fire – you can burn a section, and heat will rise and cause things to blow around.
You can also shape some C4 explosive into a bowl, then fill that bowl with nitroglycerin. Once filled, you can add a few little people running around nearby, add stone for a small mountain, then set up a bombing run. Once the bombs hit the nitro, it flashes and sets off the C4, and you get to watch the little guys blow around and try to outrun the ensuing fires. Number One Son can now explain the differences between stable and unstable explosive devices, including gunpowder, C4, nitro, fireworks, gas, and "magma" – which is always a good time if you have a mountain over your cache of powder. I can tell when he’s working on these activities: I can hear him providing the voice-overs for the people. "Frank, look out! Don’t step in the acid pits!" "Aaaaagh!"
I’m sure I’m going to hear about this from his second-grade teacher one of these days…
Wednesday, April 29, 2009; 9:19 AM:
(CAER DALLBEN, Prydain) – Taran, Eilonwy, and Fflewddur Flam were diagnosed with Swine Influenza this morning, reports High Prince Gwydion from the castle. Taran, long known for his association with pigs, was likely the initial vector of the outbreak, and has succumbed to the disease, as has princess Eilonwy. Flags will be flown at half-staff for a week according to the High King’s protocol office.
Medwyn, Prydain’s High Veterinarian, has examined samples taken from oracular pig Hen Wen and established that the strains of H1N1 are identical to those of Taran, Eilonwy, and Fflewddur Flam. Flam was further diagnosed as being "too irritating to die," according to Gwydion, and is expected to make a full recovery. Farmers Aeddan and Llassar have also been diagnosed with the flu but are recovering.