Wednesday, March 14, 2007


It was like an everyday occurance.

I walk in the door and there's my daughter, sitting on the couch, the world's happiest African Giant Millipede nestled in the palm of her hand, nibbling away on a slice of cucumber.

OK, bulging out over the palm of her hand, all black and wet-looking like your worst primordial worm nightmare gone bad.

A wild grin slapped on Rainey's 23-year-old face.

"Isn't it beautiful???" she exclaims.

If this girl had her way there would be crocodiles in the bathtub, a colony of ants in the kitchen, wooly bears crawling the walls, salamanders watching television on the arms of the recliner, and snakes sunning themselves on the windowsill.

I'm not big on slimy. Maybe it's because mothers are always cleaning up slime of one form or another.

I had to look away.

"No, I really, really do not want to pet it," I answered in a panicked, shaky voice.

Giant African millipedes can grow to be 12 inches long and live for seven years. Great.

Maybe I could borrow it and wear it to parties, like the exotic fashion, high couture even, of leashed cockroaches worn on sweaters. (Please don't tell Rainey).

For every body segment, the millipede has two pairs of legs, so they give the appearance of having hundreds of legs. When born, they only have three pairs of legs, and as they grow, they increase in size and add segments with each molt.

Sick.

Some millipedes do not have eyes, but all have antennae and jaws to chew on plants. When threatened, they can excrete a foul-tasting and smelling fluid from specialized stink glands.

It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?

I don't even like to touch fish, or engage in the act of fishing. One look at that little mouth gasping for air, a hook sunk through its lip, and my knees get weak.

I lean toward the warm-blooded species of the world. Escorting a little mouse out of the house and into the woods, no problem.

My daughter told me that one day she hopes to be a part of genetically manufacturing a dinosaur using cells from possibly preserved bone marrow.

I can already visualize a T-Rex in the backyard.

Keep shooting for the moon, kid, but leave me out of it.

No comments: