Weird Science

My college roommate (from 20 years ago) came to town for a few days to attend the Engineering Expo, and I got to spend the day with her eight-year-old daughter Hannah. After lunch, I decided to take her hiking at a local pond where I often take my kids to hike.

The pond is full of wildlife -- ducks, fish, turtles ... and Canada geese. You may recall me posting about said geese before ... these geese, though wild, can be fairly chummy with people if they think you have food to share. As a result, if they see people coming toward the pond, they will approach and honk for a handout, usually keeping a safe distance. In the blog entry, I mentioned that Gwen was afraid of the "goose mafia," but we've probably been to this pond hundreds of times, and never had a close encounter with a goose --

Until today. Actually, we did not have a close encounter with a goose, it was more of a "close enough" encounter. As Hannah and I walked down the path that passes over the dam between the pond and the swamp, we encountered a number of geese, but one pair approached us with considerable alacrity. Hannah, who had grown accustomed to the familiarity of the geese, asked if it would be okay to give them gum, but as I refused (and these geese closed with us) I saw that they were not honking but hissing at us. I figured this was a bad sign, and suggested we take a convenient fork in the path.

The geese continued to follow us, but now they seemed satisfied to keep pace with us, continuing to hiss at us but not closing. I guess my continual glancing over my shoulder tipped Hannah off that all was not well, and we picked up the pace a little, the geese speeding up to match our speed. Still, they seemed to be calming down a little, and so was I, when suddenly, out of the brush to our right emerged ... two more Canada geese.

Hannah instinctively threw her arm out to wave these newcomers away, but while this new pair did not seem to notice (or fright) at this movement, one of the geese behind us REALLY started booking down the path toward us. I was moving toward Hannah, prepared to yank her into the air, when the goose whipped past us, hissing and flapping its wings, and launched itself at one of the geese that had just joined us. It turned into a battle in the air as the two geese flew out, squawking, over the water.

Hannah and I were a lot less casual about Canada geese for the rest of the trip. It figures that it is only when I am bringing someone else's kid out here that something bizarre like this happens. I still have no idea what excited those two Canada geese so -- the only thing I can think is that they had a nest nearby. Any ideas?


We attended the science fair with Gwen (and Hannah and my college roommate in tow) this evening. Gwen did a great job -- probably her best presentation ever (it was a study comparing Solar and Wind energy. She definitely attracted the attention of the judges, and was one of the last kids to pack up their trifold display and leave.

As we headed to the car, I relayed to Adam that Gwen had been so overrun with viewers that at one point, when I told her the judges has been delayed, she said, "Thank goodness -- I need time to catch my breath!" just as another judge (not one of hers) came and talked to her for a quite awhile ... until her judges came.

Gwen commented upon hearing this, "I didn't mind -- I liked talking to the judges. Especially the guys!" Uh-oh.

When we got home, though, Gwen starting playing psychological games that I didn't know she knew. Somewhere she had picked up on the fact that the principal would be calling the parents of the winners. I was not surprised when we got the call -- I was kind of expecting it -- but the principal stressed that this was supposed to be a secret. Oh boy.

As Gwen finished her shower, she said, "I bet the principal calls at midnight and you guys will be like, 'Ack! Why are you calling so late?'"

I just shrugged and smiled. But then I foresaw a problem -- she would definitely ask in the morning if we had gotten the call. If we said, "No," she would have an (unwarrented) meltdown. If we said, "Yes," then she would probably reveal that she knew the secret because she would be so jubilant.

Trying to head this off at the pass, I said, "You know, Gwen, if we do get the call, we're not supposed to tell you. It's supposed to be a secret."

"A secret?" she replied. "Well, at least you can tell me if you do NOT get a call."

"Um, no, I don't think I can."

"I don't care if it is a secret if I win ... but if I lose, I want to know at home so I don't get upset in front of my friends."

Well, it is hard to argue with logic like that. Strangely enough, if I had not gotten a call, I would have prepared her in advance. But having gotten a call, I didn't want to spoil the beginning of her day by telling her she lost (even though it wasn't true), but to tell her she won would spoil the secret.

Too complicated! Only eight years old, and already a master of mind games.


This is not about the kids, but it is kind of funny. We sold our old car a week ago, but our new car is not in yet. We were told it MIGHT be in by the 22nd.

Anyway, I expected the principal to call last night, so when the phone rang, I hurried to answer it before the kids noticed.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mandy? This is Julie, from the Honda dealership. Your car is in!"

"Oh --"

Beep! (Call waiting -- another call!)

" -- great." How can I get this woman off the phone?

"Yes, I was really happy to get the car in a few days."

Beep!

"Um, yeah, Julie, it is great! Can you hold on for just a sec?"

"Uh, yeah, okay."

(Click the receiver to switch lines.)

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is the principal from your daughter's school. I'm calling to let you know she won one of the science fair awards for the third grade!"

"Oh, great!"

"Anyway, you need to keep it a secret, blahblahblah ..." Oh, gosh, I don't want Julie to hang up on me -- how can I get this woman off the phone?

"blahblahblah ... but it would be nice if her parents could attend."

"Uh, yeah, sure, what time?"

"Well, we'll start at 8:55 ..."

"Okay, great! Thanks!"

"Uh, you're welcome ..."

"Goodbye!"

"Goodbye ..."

Click the receiver, switch back to Julie.

"Julie, hello. So, about the car ..."

I bet both women ending up hanging up the phone thinking, "What the hell is WRONG with that woman? Here I called her with good news, and ..."

Child Labor

Yesterday Xavier had a friend over. We'll call him Mark.

Whereas Xavier is obsessed with Legos, Mark likes to play outside. As a result, it was not uncommon for Mark to come ask to help me muck out the flowerbeds, and when I'd ask Mark where Xavier was, he's say, "Playing with legos someplace."

Finally Xavier came outside to play with Mark. They rode their bikes in the driveway (and the lawn, when they thought they could get away with it), they ran around throwing legos at each other, all while I was clearing the ancient mulch out of the flowerbed.

At some point, I was dimly aware that they'd gone into the backyard. I didn't think much about it at first, but then I noticed that whenever I could hear their voices, I could also hear a mechanized ch-ch-ch sound. "I wonder what that is," I thought. After awhile, I became more curious. "Xavier doesn't have a remote controlled toy that could weather the yard," I thought. "It's not like either boy has an automated car or an ATV ..."

Finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I went to look. The two boys were pushing my reel mower back and forth across the yard. The reel mower is probably too much for either one of the boys, but while Matthew -- the taller -- pushed on the regular handle, Xavier -- the shorter -- pushed on the support brace halfway down from the handle. They looked pretty funny doing it.

When they spotted me, Xavier cried, "Look, Mom! We're mowing the grass so you don't have to!"

Never mind that it is March and the grass looks like it should be in intensive care; it's the thought that counts.