well played, mom. well played.

This post is dedicated to my mother, who graciously put up with homeschooling my sister and me for years. Who loved me through my moments of joy and utter nonsensical butt-headedness. I love you, mom. Happiest of birthdays!

Every kid these days has to experience a dissection of some sort during their schooling. When I took biology, I wasn't exempt to this (though I wished I was). I had already lived through the sights and smells of several dissections that Janine did for her biology course, and I knew the day was coming when I'd have to do the same. Except that when you’re homeschooling, it’s just you and your teacher (mom in my case, who was a biology major in college and found dissections utterly fascinating).

Anyways.

One of the specimens we had to dissect was a fish. The poor perch came to us very much dead and soaked in formaldehyde. (Sidenote - I'm very much so a smell person. One of the worst parts of dissections was the unavoidable smell) Even after we had performed the necessary procedures on the poor fish, the smell lingered in the air. My usual play was to participate to the degree necessary, then leave the area to clear the smell out of my nose.

My mom has quite the sense of humor, though it isn’t always out on the surface. On this particular day of perch operation, mom’s sense of irony kicked into gear. When we got the call for dinner, we emerged from our corners of the house back into the kitchen, where formaldehyde still clung to the air. We sat down to eat. Everything was normal. Until I realized what was in front of me.

Tuna. Mom had made tuna.

Well played, mom. Well played.