I’m horrible at this. I say what I want around my kids. I don’t swear and say awful things around them. However, I am honest about who I am and they are picking up on that.
For example: I’ve decided to go back to school this coming fall. I’m hoping to obtain my degree in Forensic Anthropology. I’m taking tons of Forensic Science, Archaeology, and Anthropology courses. I’m very excited to start school but I’m also very nervous! So I’ve been working on learning Anatomy and the skeletal system on my own.
Morgan has also taken an interest in human anatomy. I see nothing wrong with this. We talk about what’s under our skin and how the body works and moves all the time. I bought tons of tools to help us both learn as much as we can. I’m all for the education of my kids.
What I didn’t realize, was that I am looking at identifying remains. I’m not looking to obtain an actual medical degree. The humans I will be looking at, will be dead. Which is why I’m researching the “inside” of a body more than anything else.
This has lead to some interesting situations with people that aren’t in our house.
Morgan had a question awhile ago, about a muscle in her body and what it was called. We looked it up and I gave her the name of it.
Then she asked if she could see it. So I showed her a picture from the coloring book.
“No Mommy, I want to actually see what it looks like, for real.”
“How do you expect me to show it to you?!”
“Find me a dead body, so we can cut it open and look.”
“Morgan, how do you expect me to do that?
“Let’s go knife one.”
Oh shit. This is no longer cute. I’ve created a serial killer, not a scientist.
“Morgan, we can’t do that. That’s called killing someone. That’s wrong.”
“I didn’t mean KILL someone. I just want to see their insides. Then they can be alive again.”
Wow. We have some work to do still.
Got a call from her teacher. Apparently she’s been asking the librarian on how to find books on dead bodies. I had to explain to them what’s going on in our home. Her teacher was relieved. Unfortunately for Morgan, there aren’t many books on dead bodies for her age.
Morgan was star of the week for school and had to fill out a sheet with her information. Like, how old she is, and her favorite food. One question asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She said, “A body digger.”
Morgan said, “It’s a person that digs up bodies and finds out what’s wrong with them.”
Whew. That sounds a LITTLE better. I put down “Crime Scene Investigator”. Then she drew a picture of dirt with bodies under it and people with shovels. Great.
And now, not only do I have to explain to her teacher, but to Evan’s as well. This was his Mother’s Day poem for me from school:
Man. They sure know how to throw me under the bus. It is a really sweet card. But, for someone not in my home at this time, it might look a bit creepy.
This is my warning to you, Parents:
Be careful what you say. Calls from the school about your creepy ass kids are no fun. Especially when it’s your fault.