First there was the original pickled lamprey in a canning jar--a particularly gross memento of A.'s childhood--that hangs out in the crawlspace in the back bedroom. At least that's out of sight.
Then there was the live lamprey that appeared on our beach and then in my living room before being pickled in its turn and put in place of pride on Cubby's dresser. That one is still there, sloshing around most disturbingly every time I open the drawer to get out a pair of socks for him.
And then there were the multitudes of live lampreys that Cubby got to play with yesterday.
Mr. Jason has been working this spring trapping lampreys for the state conservation department, for various purposes including studying and decreasing their numbers. Of course when A. found out about this, he just had to bring Cubby to see the traps.
I had zero interest in going, both because I'm so repelled by lampreys and because I really didn't want to deal with Charlie around a mess of sucking nightmare creatures. So I let A. take Cubby by himself. This meant that Cubby actually got to handle the lampreys (while wearing gloves). The photos were enough to make me shudder; I can't imagine actually being there and watching him hold one of these writhing monsters.
Yessir, that's my baby. Holding a terrifyingly repellent creature.
There was a video too, but it made me too faint and I can't bear to post it.
Cubby, however, had a wonderful time and has told anyone who will listen how he got to hold a lamprey eel.
And then I have to explain to a largely incredulous audience why he was holding them. Though really I have no real reason. Why anyone would voluntarily hold one of those things is so far beyond my comprehension that I'm just giving up on understanding my son right now and turning him over to his father for the really fun stuff.
At least they didn't bring any home and ask me to cook them. That probably would've finished me off for good.
* Which now includes everyone who just clicked on that link. You're welcome!