So. As I was putting the kids’ laundry away today, I made an unsettling discovery in the Man-Cub’s pajama drawer. I’m not even sure that unsettling is the correct term, exactly, but, I'll let you be the judge of that.
Just in case you can’t clearly see the cause of my angst, please, do click on the photo for a closer look. Go ahead, I’ll wait.
Done? Great, now we are all on the same page and that would be page What. The. Fuck.
Petri dishes. Growing specimens of some sort. In my son’s pajama drawer.
What, exactly, are those crazy children of mine up to, I ask you.
And, yes, while I did find this abomination in the Man-Cub’s drawer, there is no doubt in my mind that it represents a consolidated effort between siblings. The experiment is far too sophisticated for the Cub to come up with on his own; for one thing, he lacks access to petri dishes. The Girl, on the other hand, attends actual science classes at school and, if memory serves; recently completed the dissection of a pig’s eyeball in class. Plus, I can totally see her saying “I'm bored. You want to grow a mutant pig-clone that may, or may not, rise up and eat our parents’ faces off in their sleep? Cool. Let’s do it in your room.” To which the Cub would reply “Suh-weet!”
Kids these days.
Anyway, while the prospect of having my face eaten off by a mutant pig-clone doesn’t exactly thrill me to pieces; I fought the urge to throw the petri dishes in the nearest trash truck (heading far, far away) and closed the drawer, allowing the experiment to go on, unfettered.
I mean, my kids, who would just as soon scratch each other's eyes out as cooperate, are working on something together. Quietly. And, it's on something almost educational (fingers crossed).
Plus, if Alexander Fleming’s mother had thrown the moldy bread out of his pajama drawer, the world might never have had penicillin. And, I’m going to need penicillin to combat the infection caused by the wounds to my face when that pig rises out of my son’s drawers so, you know, it’s all good.
Somewhat nightmare-inducing but, you know.... good.