It's hard to say why Blackie, one of our new balloon-bellied mollies (fat weirdly shaped goldfish type creatures), died. Probably abrasions due to getting tangled in the net during release. Maybe our slight problem with ammonia. In any case, he died a few days after joining our aquatic community. He seemed fine at bedtime, but by morning was lying on his side on the blue gravel. Isaac was sleeping over at his grandpa's house that night. I spent the day after Blackie's death wondering how and when it would be best to break the news to Isaac.
I decided to wait until he was home and settled in. When I told him, "I have some sad news: Blackie died," Isaac paused for a moment and put his head down. I thought maybe he would cry. But after a few seconds to absorb the blow, Isaac came out with, "Can I cut him up?… PLEASE?… I want to see his stomach and his bladder."
So. I struggled inwardly with this question. Is it really moral to carve up your pet and friend? And yet, on the other hand, maybe Isaac is inherently a scientist, and should I really stifle his interest in anatomy? He's not exactly out robbing graves. I mean, Blackie died of natural causes. Maybe Isaac is going to be a doctor. Anyway, after some debate, I said yes. I brought the cadaver down and gave Isaac the best knife I could find for the purpose, which was not at all a scalpel. Then I left. What ensued was too horrible for me to deal with. Blackie's body was so tiny, and hard, and the knife was so dull, and Isaac so unskilled, it was not a pretty sight.
I went into the other room and sat on the couch, having armed my child. Insane. The Dangerous Book for Boys authors would have been proud. But… educational, no doubt. So then Isaac yells joyfully, "I found his bladder!! It's bright yellow!" I waited some more. Finally he came in and announced that it was over. I took Blackie's battered carcass outside and buried it near the grave of Silveryback, our first aquatic loss.
I don't really like having an aquarium.
Meanwhile, Elias is continuing his research into electrical engineering. As you may recall, I recently walked through the entire house carefully replacing all the outlet covers. So the other day, Elias comes running in carrying two outlet covers! Look what I did! he non-verbally exclaimed. I went in to see what was up. He had managed to get the covers off the very outlet where he had been sticking the key. The new outlet covers I got were the special easier to remove variety ("save your nails!" the package exclaims.) But what value if the tot himself can save his nails too? I found one of the old-school impossible to remove kind and put it into the outlet in question. "Can you get that one off?" I asked Elias. He began to work the problem. He struggled with it for a few moments, then began to sign "Help." "Okay," I said. "That's the kind we'll get." I have now replaced them all again hopefully for the last time.
What is it with this kid and outlets?
He tried to break his neck on the playground yesterday, too. Upon arrival, while I was setting down my diaper bag, he climbed up this big-kid ladder, and fell between the rungs. I saw him fall, but I was a good twenty feet away. He fell straight down, maybe four or five feet. But he landed cat-like on all fours, and apparently the wood chips were enough to prevent serious harm. He sobbed in my arms for a few minutes, and then went back to trying to kill himself, giving me twenty-five more gray hairs before we called it a night.