Resistance is Futile

I had a little fun with my boy, today. I have a CoreDuo mac mini hooked to our HDTV so we can watch podcasts and iTunes movies. He was in the front room while my daughter was watching a movie so I decided to have a little fun.


He figured out it was me fairly quickly, but for a few moments there he thought the computer was talking to him.

(In case you're wondering what a
doodle pad is. And, yes, I know it's supposed to be "you're". BASH doesn't like the apostrophe, though, so I had to use a homonym.)

Discover Magazine - The Body Electric

My son and I were watching a Discover Magazine on the Science Channel, and we were watching "The Body Electric," about how electrical impulses help control the body and various functions. The first part of the show was about a young man named José who was paralyzed in an accident. Here, we had to stop the show so I could explain to my son what "paralyzed" was. I explained that the accident had broken some of the bones in José's neck, and the pieces of bone had then damaged the nerves that allowed José to control his arms and legs. He immediately started to cry for José. Which made me cry. It took us awhile to calm back down and watch how they were using technology to try to help José regain some finer motor control in his hands. It was pretty rough there for a bit. 5 hankies for him, 3 hankies for me.

Double Dare 2000

My son and I were watching Double Dare 2000 on Nick GAS and as the episode ended, the family playing completed the obstacle course and won every prize. We ended up cheering them on, and when they won I got a little misty-eyed. 1 hankie

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie

Last night we chased and almost caught a juvenile mouse that was endearingly bumbling around our front room. It was confused, and small, and obviously was feeling the effects of our recent campaign to push out a sizable mouse infestation that'd we'd experienced this fall. We'd eliminated just about every food source that the mice had found so enticing (our pantry is at least temporarily empty and a forgotten bag of dry dog food amongst some boxes in my office is now removed). We'd also already caught eight other adult and juvenile mice so most signs of the mice were already gone. Just this little mouse who, if you stood still, would stand in the middle of the carpet cleaning itself or walking around the furniture and only dart away if you made a sudden move. It even walked past my immobile feet a couple of times as if I were simply another piece of furniture to use as cover.

We laughed and were excited as we almost tricked it into walking into a sandcastle bucket from the toy box so I could transport it outside so it'd have a chance at a life likely no less dangerous, but at least not in danger from us. It's impossible for us, as humans, to not begin to love that which we become used to, and we were rapidly becoming used to this little mouse's bumbling antics.

I never caught it. Twice I almost coaxed it into the bucket and from there to the outdoors. To an unseen fate that I could pretend wasn't likely to be tragic and that I wouldn't have to feel responsible for. Even in it's bumbling way it eluded me, though, and eventually it went under a large, non-movable piece of furniture and we went to bed.

This morning, I found what was almost certainly the same mouse dead in a trap. I lied to my son and told him I thought it was a different mouse. I'm not openly weeping for the death of the little mouse, but I am feeling more than a little heart-broken.