I parked beside a van with this magnetic sign attached to its side:

I’ve thought about this for a long while and I just can’t figure out what the name of this pet salon is. (It’s probably something obvious, and my being stumped just makes me look like an idiot.) What letter is the paw print in the second word supposed to be? P*urri? I even ran this through a spell checker, and the computer is lost.

Whatever the word is, I guess it must refer to some kind of doggie torture, because look at the faces of the two dogs — they’ve both got big frowns. They look scared. I sure as hell wouldn’t take a dog to this “salon.”

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The state Museum of Natural History is having it’s annual Reptile & Amphibian Day this weekend, and I took the boys. We’ve been to the museum a few times over the years, and it’s always been a hit. This time was no exception.

When we got to the downtown area, the streets were packed with cars and pedestrians. I’ve been downtown several times during rush hour, and that’s nothing compared to this snarl of traffic. We drove around for a long time looking for parking, and during that search we discovered there was also a St. Patrick’s Day parade happening this day. I had noticed an inordinate amount of green clothing on the pedestrians, but having my attention on the vehicles within six inches of either side of the van, the prevalent color didn’t really register with me before seeing the parade route lined with a sea of green.

Anyway, we eventually found a parking spot when someone pulled out and left. We debarked and discussed whether to see the parade or not. I figured that we ought to go on to the museum, as that was our original reason for coming downtown anyway, plus, after the parade, some of the people on the street might head for the museum themselves. Not need to fight the crowds twice.

So we went on to the museum. Calfgrit7 was working Calfgrit3 up into excitement by talking about the dinosaurs in the museum. Both boys have been there before, but CG3 doesn’t remember — being just 2 years old at the time. CG7 has been here at least once a year since 2 years old, so he remembers nearly everything from his last couple of visits.

The photo to the left shows the atrium-like area where the main dino exhibit is showcased. From outside, you can see pterodactyl models circling in the glass peak, and you can see a acrocanthosaur skeleton through the second floor windows.

Inside, the museum was packed with people and snakes. Many of the snakes were out to be touched and held by any and every one. My boys touched nearly every snake presented, and even held a couple. (I held some, too.)

It was very cool. I’ve touched snakes on occasion, at small presentations and such, but I’ve never been able to handle so many so thoroughly. The experience actually made me think about a snake for a pet. They’re quiet, only need to be fed once a week, and fun to hold as they wriggle about. (The thought was pretty quickly put out of mind, though, when I thought of Cowgrit’s probably reaction.)

We visited the dinosaur hall twice (had to go by it again, before we left the museum). The boys got to see the big t-rex-cousin skeleton, a life-sized replica of some long-necked dino, and various other stuff like dino teeth and claws. They were both enraptured by the displays.

This event at the museum was part of some Boy/Cub Scout requirements, so there were many Scouts about. We hadn’t gone there for the Scouting thing, but it was suggested, by a Scout parent I chatted with at one of the displays, that I take Calfgrit7 to the Scout table in the main foyer of the museum and sign him in — he’d get a special badge and could get paper recognition for having come to the museum that day. Calfgrit7 mentioned that he wished he had worn his Scout uniform to the museum, like so many other boys had.

After leaving the museum, we walked down the street to see if the parade was still going. It was, sort of. We managed to see the very tail end of the parade — a band, a car with waving passengers, and a firetruck flashing its lights and sounding its siren.

Overall, it was a very fun trip, but it makes for a pretty boring tale.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Calfgrit3 has been difficult to put to bed for a few weeks now. Well, let me correct that: he’s been difficult to keep in bed. We can get him in bed, with some herding, but after we’ve turned out the light and left the room, he starts making lots of noise and then gets out of bed.

We’ve tried many different methods of keeping him in bed, from rewards to punishment. And we try to stay on a method for at least a week before making an adjustment or giving up on it, but some times a method works, and some times it doesn’t.

The most recent system we’ve used includes getting a star sticker the morning after he stays in bed. But if he gets three strikes and goes to time out (in another room, with me, where he has to lay down and can’t disturb his brother who is trying to get to sleep) he doesn’t get a star. When he gets a star, or a number of stars, he gets a special treat — either a special food (a Go-Tart) or a small trinket from a “prize box” we have for such situations.

This system worked for a couple nights, and he didn’t get up at all after we turned out the lights. But then he started again. A couple times, he got three strikes and so got no star and no treat/prize.

Then the next night, he got up twice, and got two strikes, but stayed in bed after that. Then the next night, he got up twice again. That second time he got up, Cowgrit heard him giggling and talking to Calfgrit7, who was getting annoyed.

Calfgrit7: “You’re not going to get a star, so you won’t get a prize.”

Calfgrit3: “It’s alright, this is just two.”

The little bugger. He was playing the system. He knew where the limit was, and he was pushing it. He too damn smart for his momma and daddy.

So now we’ve removed the whole strikes concept, and he has just one chance to earn a star. It’s kind of humiliating to be out played by a 3 year old.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Calfgrit7 brought home a book titled, Spies. He had checked it out from his elementary school library (“media center” it’s called now). It’s a self reader — for kids who can read “more complex sentence structure.” He wanted me to read it to him and Calfgrit3 one night before bed, but when I saw it, I was hesitant. I told him I wanted to look through it first.

It’s definitely something beyond what Calfgrit3 should hear, and I think it’s a bit too much for a 1st-grader, too. It’s got some really interesting information in it, but it’s also got some stuff that’s just not appropriate for a young child — talk about stealing, killing, lying, and such. Reading it myself, I found the historical information fun and informative, but there’s one section that bugs me.

On pages 26 and 27 (of 48), there’s “The world’s most famous spy, 007, works for the British Secret Service.”

“He drives fast, stylish cars. He is licensed to kill. And when this spy kills his enemies, he does it with style.”

It’s not until the last paragraph of the second page that the book admits, “Although James Bond is not a real spy . . . .” I think it’s fine to mention fictional spies in a historical, non-fiction book on spying, but come on — state this spy is fictional at the beginning of the section. A kid, say 10 years old, reading this non-fiction book won’t immediately recognize 007 as a book and movie character. The author is misleading the young reader.

But even without that section, this book is just not appropriate for a 7 year old. I’m not going to read this to Calfgrit7 until he gets older (and then he can read it for himself). He and I have already talked some about what spies are in previous, unrelated conversations, so he knows the basic idea. But I don’t think he’s ready to comprehend the differences between “good” spies and “bad” spies, corporate spies and thieves, and such.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com