Of dead varmints and crying babies

Last night was quite the varmint-filled night. No flying squirrels, but we discovered a dead mouse in the basement, and a dead skunk in the street in front of our house. A banner night for 83 Durant.

Jake and his friends discovered the skunk carcass in the street after their bridge game disbanded. They actually shoveled up the skunk into a trash bag, thinking it would be wise to get the thing off the street before morning when all the neighborhood kids are waiting for the bus. [note: "They" here does not include me, Jake, though I did supply the trash bag.] While this was, in way, a neighborly thing to do, the action failed to account for a key element of the dead skunk: the smell. Our trash won't be picked up again until next Monday, and in any case, it seems an awful thing to make the garbage haulers deal with. Thus, this morning, I made my call to animal control in Lowell, and the very kind officer came and took it away. To where, I do not know, but surely a better place than our garbage can.

I e-mailed Jake at work to let him know, and reflecting on his actions of last night, he wrote back this gem, which shall live on in blogdom:

"You don't put skunks in the trashcan. That's my philosophy."

Indeed. Words to live by.

[segue here from dead skunk to crying baby]

In other news, you may know that our family recently returned from a sometimes harrowing trip to Buffalo. (If you haven't already, you can read some nuggets about it on our flickr pictures featured above.) Upon our return, my kind colleague sent me a hilarious piece from The Onion. You should follow the link and read it, and then come back to read Lucy's response, below:

I Can't Imagine Why Anybody Would Want To Stop Crying

Life has so many wonderful experiences to offer. Like sleep. Or ingestion and evacuation. But I find life offers few opportunities more rewarding...

I Wholeheartedly Agree with Emmet Henson's Onion Opinion Piece

by Lucy Bridge
Almost 5-months old

I would like to take the opportunity to applaud 2-month-old Emmet Henson's amazing encomium to crying. For a baby so young to be so articulate about our most beloved pastime is impressive; we can expect great things, and great crying from young Emmet.

I would like to expand upon Mr. Henson's joyous celebration of screaming it out by suggesting a new discovery I have made: one of the very best times to cry is when you are strapped into the diabolical contraption known as the car seat. When your parents even start to get this torture device out, be sure to scream your fool head off. They may even reconsider their plans and allow you to continue screaming in the comfort of your own home. But if they rashly decide to continue with the car-seat-based plan, do not give up! Never back down! You must scream and scream with all your might for the entire duration of the car-seat-bound trip. While you may be uncomfortable yourself, don't forget that your parents, too, are extremely uncomfortable, as they are trapped in the car WITH you. Do your best screaming while someone is trying to merge into traffic.

The most important thing is to never stop. You may find yourself exhausted and in need of a nap, but you should not sleep. You must scream. If possible, try to scream so much that you throw up -- this has great results, and usually gets you out of the car seat for a while. You can do this several times on one trip to really maximize the fun.

If the final destination of the trip is a hotel room, you have a real treat ahead of you. Mom and Dad will be desperate to get you to stop screaming in the hotel room, so you can get them to bounce you for a long long long time. Aside from crying, bouncing is one of the best ways to fully enjoy your babyhood, so be sure to take advantage of the crying-to-bouncing trade off. It's totally worth it.

I hope that my almost 5-months of experience can help other babies to fully enjoy crying. Why would anyone ever stop? I'm sure I never will!



I think that's Lucy's first post to the blog!

I've also asked permission from our lovely friend Susan to post a response written by her son, Leone. Thanks for sharing! I know our readers will enjoy this!

A Response by Leone Kirtley Filipo

I also concur with the thoughtful comments of my colleagues Mr. Henson and Ms. Bridge as to the supreme benefits of crying. Yet, as an elder statesman of sorts at the ripe old age of one, I find myself compelled to enter into the dialogue and to share the lessons that come with age.

Whereas I once cried for the sheer joy of it, in my many months I have come to know true heartache. I weep for the tiny, chewy buttons on the remote, so cruelly ripped from my grasp. I keen for the indignity of the animal print bib forced upon me, ruining any chance of self-respect. I wail for the green beans, the squash, and the peas shoveled into my mouth with utter disregard for my delicate palate. I sob that I am not allowed to play in my own poo, and I whimper for the many books not chewed to bits.

I tell you this not to frighten but to warn you, and to encourage you to never give up your right to cry. When those elder, shadowy figures have disappeared into the calm darkness, give them just a few minutes to miss you, to wonder about you, and then release all that rage and hope and fear with a piercing howl and remember the delight of being young.