I think I was a freshman.  I might have been in Junior High, come to think of it.  A trio of boys decided to participate in the age-old game of Lemme-Light-Your-Fart.

It was uproarious good fun until the flame went up one poor lad’s arse.

That’s right.  Stop laughing.  He ended up in the hospital, being taken care of my friend’s nurse-mom, which is how I came upon the story.  Clearly, this was before HIPAA. Gladly, this was before HIPAA.  I don’t think I could have lived a fulfilling pubescent life without being able to belly laugh at this poor fool’s misfortune.

Fool.

Oh wait.  My bad.  This is the Zoological Imbecile of the Week. Sorry.

I don’t even have a video to show you.

Because I would, you know.  I so would.

Facts about the Flatulent Human:

Kingdom Animalia

Phylum Chordata

Class Mammalia

Order Primates

Family Hominidae

Genus Homo

Species H. sapien

Homeschooling Ideas:

• For Biology: the importance of the colon in basic digestive functions
• For Psychology: the effects of puberty and macho-ism on a normal boy’s decision-making process
• For Chemistry: the unpredictable attributes of fire and combustible chemicals
• For Sociology: how group behavior can compound and accentuate the idiocy of any one person

A combination of any of the above would make a great unit study, you could include mathematics by devising a formula that indicates how many seconds it takes for a group of boys to go from laughing, to panic, to attempted cover-up, to finally calling 911.

They look more like an eel than a fish. They have no jaw, cerebrum, or cerebellum.  They have 4 hearts. They are nearly blind, but have an excellent sense of smell and touch.  Four sensing tentacles protrude from around the mouth.  Their tongue comes complete with a set of pincers for ripping apart their quarry.

Well, “ripping apart” isn’t exactly what they do.  It’s more like burrowing.  They can be parasitic, attaching themselves to another fish and start tearing away bits of flesh.  Fishermen have caught cod with up to 30 hagfish attached to it.

Besides eating fish alive, they are scavengers. It’s not uncommon for hagfish to be the first on the scene after a fish death.  They waste no time in dining on the corpse.

Well, its worse than that.  They actually work their way into the body and then eat it from the inside out.  So the corpse looks like it is pulsating.

As you can imagine, this has freaked some marine scientists out.

Their populations can be enormous, despite the fact that they can’t lay very many eggs at a time. This means their mortality rate is low – they don’t die easily.

Their freakish anatomy does not make them a Superhero, however.  Superheros have superpowers and the hagfish’s superpower is it’s ability to produce a copious amount of glutinous slime.

A copious amount.  An adult is about 18 inches long, yet can produce about a gallon of slime at a time.  It is thick and sticky and inescapable.  It covers the hagfish’s predator and oozes into their gills, suffocating them.

Then, without an afterthought or a moment of remorse, it ties itself into a knot at one end of it’s body and slides the knot to the other end, wiping it clean of the murderous goo.  The hagish’s MO is left on its victim, but no implicating evidence is left on the hagfish.  It’s a Hagfish Whodunit.

Hagfish Factoids:

Kingdom Animalia

Phylum Chordata

Class Myxini

Order Myxiniformes

Family Myxinidae

In parts of the world, hagfish are eaten.  By humans.  Their skin is used to make “eel skin” products, like a knock-off Dooney & Burke.

Scientists are uncovering some potential uses of the hagfish and its slime such as cures for dermatological cancers as well as using the slime in lieu of egg whites in cooking.

Yes, slime in lieu of egg whites.  Not happening in my kitchen, I can tell you that.

Wow.  What more could a girl want?

Chocolate.  Money.  Time.

Shoes.

At least, that’s in the mind of my 8 year old.  Yesterday’s language arts assignment had a story with some fill in the blanks.  One of the sentences read:

“The farmer put horseshoes on the horses’ ___________.”

The options were:

thieves, hooves, wives, knives, wolves, lives, calves

Here’s her sentence:

“The farmer put horseshoes on the horses’ wives.”

When asked why she chose “wives” the answer was simple.  Because wives like shoes.

There you go.

Of course, beetles don’t weigh much, but I certainly felt something hit and then start scuttling about.  I reached up, felt something that was certainly not hair, and screeched.  I knocked it off and the sucker landed on my foot.

Praise the Lord, I was wearing socks.  My husband had to rescue me.

Normally, this would not be my reaction.  But after discussing the Bombardier Beetle . . . well, all I could think about was acid diarrhea on my head.

Targets of the Bombardier Beetle say other French words, however.  Believe you, me.  We’ll get to that in a minute.

First, let me say that God has an inordinate love for beetles.  There are too many of these little things crawling around.  Giant ones, tiny ones, biting ones, and stupid ones.  I’m sure they have ecological value, all things do.  But still, He could have provided the same ecological value in some form other than zillions of beetles creeping about the earth.  He could have, because He is God.  Yet He didn’t.  Therefore, He must have had a purpose other than ecology.  He must love them.  Crimeny.

Double crimeny when you consider this coleopterical villain.

Coleopterical – impressive word, eh?  Coleopterists are studiers of beetles.  God loves beetles, made a bunch of them, and then made people who also loved them.

They have a Society, these Coleopterists.  They have meetings and publications and awards . . . even Youth Incentives.

Mercy, me.  They even have ballcaps.

Back to the Bombardier Beetle.  This little devil gets Zoological Superhero status this week because of his ability to aim at his target and shoot boiling battery acid out of his hiney. That’s right, folks. Boiling battery acid.  Out of his hiney.

You may have thought you have done this after that jalapeno-ridden Mexican dinner last night, but it is nothing like what this guy produces. It’s the bear mace of the insect world. This guy could star in a B-rated horror flick.  He would totally trump the horror/creepiness of Empire of the Ants or The Giant Spider Invasion.

If you read about last week’s Zoological Superhero, you may think I’m developing a fetish for creatures that can shoot stuff out their butts.  I’m not.  It’s just a coincidence.  I hope.

Check it out:

Here’s the process:

They make 2 chemical compounds:  hydrogen peroxide and hydroquinone (used to develop photos).  Both these compounds are stored in the abdomen, in separate compartments.

1. When threatened, these chemicals get sent to another area in the abdomen where they are mixed together.  When these compounds mix, cool things start to happen.
2. First,  they get hot.  Not gradually.  It’s called an exothermic reaction and it means they go from average temperature to raging hot in nanoseconds.  Less than nanoseconds.
3. Second, this extreme heat builds up pressure, closing valves that would allow this toxic mess to enter the rest of the beetle’s abdomen.  The rest shoots out of the beetle’s body through outlet valves with a loud popping sound.  Like a bombardier in an aircraft shooting the enemy.  Thus the name.
4. Steps 2 through 4 repeat themselves over and over, about 500 times per second.  Of course, the entire onslaught only lasts about a quarter of a second, but still, come on . . . boiling battery acid shooting out of a bug’s rear-end.  A fraction of a second is long enough.

One other lovely bonus this miscreant has to offer . . . the boiling battery acid also stinks.  Insult to injury.

Might I add that some species can actually rotate the shooting valve about 270 degrees?  Perfect aim.  This bug has been name appropriately.

So there you have it.  Zoological Superhero of the Week is the Demoniac Bombardier Beetle.

Ideas for Homeschoolers:

• Use the name and tie it into a WWII study as a fun tangent.
• Introduce it as a part of your normal science course for younger students.
• For older students . . . this nasty little thing is chock full of possibilities. Use it in physics by studying the inner mechanisms of its defense (pressure, valves, etc).  Use it in chemistry as a cool way to illustrate chemical compounds, reactions, flash evaporation, and such.
• Or just watch YouTube videos of it while you take a break for snacks.  That is, if you can eat snacks and watch bugs at the same time.

Facts about the Bombardier Beetle:

Kingdom Animalia

Phylum Arthropoda

Class Insecta

Order Coleoptera

Family Carabidae

This nasty little creature has found its way to the middle of the debate between creationists and evolutionists.  I highly recommend including it as a part of any theology study you are using, particularly in conjunction with your science curriculum.  It’s a colorful, and easy way to introduce this long-standing debate with your kiddos.  Two places to get you started are here and here.

Climbing, I tell you.

I go to get a sippy cup, but they are dirty.  I grumble . . . and then remember we have a new one in the cupboard.  It’s still in the plastic.  I use scissors to cut the plastic but what do you know . . . more plastic.

Every time a prisoner escapes I think, “If they’d use the same technology to restrain them that companies use to seal DVD’s, no prisoner would ever escape again.”

Same goes for sippy cups.

So I wrestle the scissor blades under the plastic and start to cut.  This second layer of plastic is more rigid and tough and I’m gritting my teeth.  The stupid thing fit like a glove.  I finally am able to damage it enough to break it off the top of the cup.

That’s when I realized it was not part of the packaging.  I had just destroyed the protective cover for the lid.

That’s what stress does to you.  Me.

Check it out:

No, that is not me.  I would not do this to a Sea Cucumber.  Why won’t I hug a Sea Cucumber?

Sea Cucumbers shoot their innards out their rear end.  Only when threatened, though.  It’s not like its a hobby.  There are no Sea Cucumber Olympics . . . a sort of gastronomical shot put.  But when threatened, oh dear, stay away from the little hole at the end.  It’s the classic element of surprise.  Classic, I said, not classy.

They are part of the underworld of Zoological Superheroes.  The Lost Boys of Superhero-dom.  Too vulgar and sluggish to ante up to Spiderman or the Fantastic Four.  Too boorish to partner up with the Green Goblin or even the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

I saw the above picture and couldn’t help but wonder, what happened after the friendly squeeze?  Are we missing photo number two?

Here’s a video.  Please note the Sea Cucumber is much smaller than the one pictured above:

Lordy, lordy, I shall not hug a Sea Cucumber.

One more video, just for fun. Listen carefully to the narration . . .

Soup? Very nutritious?  Surely no one decided to eat one of these after the shock of what happened once they caught it . . .

My bad.  Crimeny.

On the other hand, it would already be gutted.

So that’s it folks – this week’s Zoological Superhero is the Uncouth Sea Cuke.  Let me quote from National Geographic:

[Some Sea Cucumbers] even go to the extent of mutilating their bodies as a mechanism of defense. They do this by violently contracting their muscles and jettisoning a part of their innards through their anus. These ejected parts of the body are regenerated very quickly.

Suitable subject matter for Homeschool Science and fun art projects (and I school girls . . . imagine what you could do for boys).  Not recommended as a pet or as a side dish.  Not by me, at any rate.

Sea Cucumber facts

(and why choosy ladies choose flower-scented soaps):

Kingdom: Animalia

Phylum: Echinodermata

Class: Holothuroidea

Sea Cucumbers have bodies made of collagen.  This means they can make their body firm, but they can also become so soft they ar almost liquid, and can then literally pour through small spaces. Not all sea cucumbers can eviscerate, or expel their internal organs, but those who do also eject a toxic chemical.  This chemical is, ironically, similar to soap.  For sea creatures, this is a bad thing.  For us, well, I’m not buying any “Cucumber and Melon Body Wash” ever again.

I started the month off wanting to be a Zebra.  They have the perfect camouflage, making them practically invisible to their predators.  To us, they stick out like a sore thumb, but to the color-blind lion, the stripes on zebras look like the tall Savannah grass.  Plus, when they are in a group, the stripes make it harder to differentiate one from another.

It’s a cloak of invisibility and I want one.

The other thing I like about zebras is that the Mama keeps all the other zebras away from her new baby for a few days.  I’m the same way.  We are kindred spirits, Zebra Mama and I.

I also understand that zebras have some control over labor.  If  Zebra Mama is in labor, and the herd comes under attack, she can temporarily stop labor to escape to safety.  I remember learning this in a class, but after a cursory search on Google, I can’t verify it.  Whether its true or not, I sure like that SuperPower.  I was due to have a baby on the 25th of this month and I wanted to make it to at least my due date, which I’ve never done before.  What I really wanted was to push on until February.  So I thought being a zebra would be a grand idea.

Two days after my decision to pursue Zebra Mama SuperPowers, I had my baby.  Three weeks early.  Probably my last baby, too and so it is official:  I’ve never carried all the way to 40 weeks and I’m bitterly disappointed.  Zebradom is unattainable for me.

So I’m moving on.

I’m on an expedition through the Kingdoms Animalia, Plantae, Monera, Prostista, and yes, even Fungi to find critters with astonishing abilities.  I will find my SuperPower.

I will.

Except I blew it and birthed her little brother that Thursday.

Got home from the hospital that Saturday and I think it was on Monday when we finally got around to giving her her presents.  Mind you, she turned one, so its not like any of this was traumatic for her.

And mind you, she just turned one.  And I just had another baby. It is very important you keep this in mind as I try to get this blog going again.  I might be erratic.  I might be emotional.  I might beg you to rescue me.

Or my older kids might beg you to rescue them.

I purchased two Melissa and Doug toys for her.  I love this company.  They make the best toys- my personal favorites are their magic sets (by far the best on the market) and their puzzles (check out their Sound puzzles and Other Fun puzzles).

This is one of the puzzles I bought for her birthday:

Click on picture to order off of Amazon

All the doors have latches that you have to undo in order to see the pictures underneath.  She loves it, although she doesn’t quite have the dexterity yet to figure out all the latches.  If she gets stuck, she finds that picking up the board and slamming it down helps relieve some of her stress.  And occasionally causes a latch to let loose.

I love to read reviews on products.  I don’t know why.  Probably the same reason I love late night infomercials.

One of the reviews for the Latches Board said simply:

“Fabulous product.  Let’s teach all toddlers to open locked cabinets.”

I laughed until I had tears.  Although it was meant to dissuade me, it sold me.  Flashy advertising has little effect on me.  But sarcasm?  Heck, yeah.  It was this review that convinced me to buy, buy, buy.

Lurking in my distant past is a pretty successful thief.  I think this is what attracted me to the toy in the first place.  I know that Ms. Childhood Safety Advocate is trying to keep kids from opening the cabinets with cleaning supplies, but all I could think about was movies like Oceans Eleven and The Thomas Crown Affair.

I’m in the market now for a toy that teaches you to push and turn at the same time.  You know – like the lids on pill bottles.

Just kidding.  Really. However, I do think they need to offer that training at the pharmacy counter when you pick up your prescriptions.

I’d much rather find a toy that helps an innocent-looking child lift a wallet out of a man’s pocket.  Sort of like Dressy Bessy, but instead of buttons on dresses and ties on shoes you would have billfolds and keys hidden away in trousers and jackets.

Pickpocket Polly, you could call it.

Better yet, it could be a pirate doll.  Buccaneer Bart.

Sigh.  It’s stuff like this that disqualify me from calling this blog “Proverbs 31 Woman”.

I’m going to go watch Entrapment now whilst I nurse a baby.

~P32W

Below is my 8 year-old’s assignment, written exactly as she has it on paper.

First, some background information:

1. The two girls share a room. The 8 year old, Claire, has the top bunk. The 11 year old, Ruth, has the bottom.

2. My oldest is a red-head.

3.  One evening  SuperKev was listening at the door to their conversation after they were supposed to be in bed. He was actually going in to silence them, but stopped himself at the door just to listen for a bit. He discovered that Ruth (mind you, the eldest) couldn’t go to sleep unless Claire told her a story. Claire is often just drifting off when Ruth demands a story. I used the word “demands” deliberately.

And now the tale . . .

There’s a thing under my bed. It’s a red headed thing it smells like puke. Every night before I go to bed the scary thing asks me to tell a scary story so every dark and scary night I haved to tell it a scary story in tell the thing falls to reasles [restless] sleep.  one night I was thingking I wonder what will happen if I didnt tell it a story?  so one night when it said in a deep voice tell me a story I said no in a shaky voice and it said in a mad voice what did you say?  I said in a shakyer voice I sai . . . said n . . . no.  the thing got so mad that it was shaking my bed. [At this point there is a picture of a bunk bed with a girl on top and a humanish looking monster with horns on the bottom]. And then I heard it come out from under my bed I herd it come up my bed.  I moved into the corner of my bed.  when it got on my bed I herd it fart.  I lauaghed it said in a angry mean voice shush.  I got quiet then it touched me.  it touched me in a tickle spot so I started laughing.  it started to laught I though things couldent laght so I said shush it and it got quiet so I said go under my bed and it went.  I said tell me a story and it told me a story and while it was telling me the story I relized that now I was the monster.  So every night it told me a story and did what I told it to do!!!

She is so proud.  This is her first story that she wrote entirely out of her own head.  Please send comments of praise and adoration . . .