Birch Aquarium

The morning before Mother's Day we're eating banana muffins prepared by Jethro and yours truly in our pajamas, and Jake's like, "How would you guys like to go to the aquarium today?" and I said, "Hells yeah!" And that was the last bad word I'll ever say in front of Jethro because I want to raise my children in the same profanity-free environment I was raised in. (Harharhar.) But seriously, I'm really trying, so don't anybody suggest an activity as awesome as the Birch Aquarium to me if my son is within earshot.

When I was a child I really wanted to be a marine biologist, which is so d*** funny to me now. I can scarce imagine a career I'd be worse at, as evidenced by me screaming in the tidepool exhibit when I reached in the water to touch a sea urchin and a single one of its tiny tentacles stuck to my fingertip. I blame "The Little Mermaid" and "Splash" entirely for my several-years-long obsession with making my future livelihood unduh duh sea.

A seahorse (they mate for life, did you know that?) and a startling disembodied human arm cleaning the sand.

Although I am pretty certain that if I someday become a kajillionaire I will have installed in my kick-a** mansion a blacklight jellyfish aquarium. You're all invited to the unveiling.

Jethro has in the last few months adopted his mother's tendency to gasp really dramatically when encountering anything he finds exciting. For him these things range from stop signs and fire hydrants to the following:

For me, this lionfish was gasp-worthy:

Because do you remember who else has a lionfish? That's right. Captain Jean-Luc Picard in his office.

Q and Picard's lionfish, Livingstone.

Then there was this fish-less exhibit all about how you're killing the environment pretty much just by being alive. As evidenced by Jake's expression we were sobered and disgusted with ourselves.

Jethro and I delivered a sobering newscast on wildfires or something.

And Jethro found this sobering learning device more exciting than seahorses. KNOBS AND BUTTONS!!! OMG!!!!

But I loved you, seahorses, with your good posture and your curly tails and your mating for life and your males-having-the-babies. I hope to visit you again. Almost certainly before Jethro's third birthday so that we don't have to spend $8.50 on a ticket for him. Yikes.

JEM