Wendy’s has a new line of toys for their kids’ meals.  The toys and informational booklets come from National Geographic Kids.  And while I sincerely appreciate Wendy’s attempt to inject education into their fried food, I think they might want to reconsider some of the specifics.

One toy in particular stands out.  It is a small, plastic, detailed and relatively clever replication of an Egyptian sarcophagus—containing a mummy buried in sand—listed on the website as an “Egyptian Sand Toy”.  The promotional copy is as follows: “Uncover the mystery of the tomb.  Locate the secret button to reveal an Egyptian mummy hidden under the sand.  This tomb is just like the ones used by Kings in Egypt thousands of years ago!”. 

I was over at a neighbor’s house and her daughter held up this toy from her Wendy’s kids’ meal and the following conversation ensued:

Neighbor’s 4 year old: “Look!”

Me: “Oh, yeah, it’s a sarcophagus!”

Neighbor’s 4 year old: “No it’s not, it’s a mummy box!”

Me: “That’s what sarcophagus means honey, what a perfect description”.

Neighbor: “Yeah, I don’t know if I like the fact that Wendy’s is giving out toys that force me to have a lengthy discussion about death over dinner”.

Me: *hysterical laughter*

My daughter is obsessed with the idea of alien life. She started off obsessed with the solar system when she was 2-3 or so; we took her to the planetarium and saw a show about the universe.  After that it was endless rounds of questions on the topic of astrophysics, most of which I knew but some I had to look up.  We spent time discussing how all elements in the universe, including those inside our bodies right now, were create by supernovae–we are all children of the stars to be romantic about it.

From there it moved on– I’m not sure exactly how–other than my husband and I spend a lot of time discussing this subject and subjects about space in general–she started asking if aliens were real (I think Scooby-Doo probably also had something to do with it).  And when I explained to her what we know about life in the universe: the commonality of the building blocks of life, the existence of life on Earth even in the harshest conditions, the size of the universe and the likelihood of other planets hospitable to life, she asked, “Where are they?”, which is of course, Fermi’s Paradox.

This is what happens when two geeks breed.

Mentally, it’s difficult for children to distinguish between fantasy and reality for years after they are born (at least they have the excuse of immature brain development, unfortunately this excuse wears thin for adults), but I imagine with the computer graphics we have these days, it’s a whole hell of a lot harder than it used to be.

My daughter and I frequently watch animal shows; the weirder the animals are, the more I like them.  We have watched numerous shows about deep sea life and all the bizarro creepy crawlies down in the dark, we watch countless shows on bizarre bugs, and have a large collection of bug books featuring creatures seemingly evolved as a bad joke.  On my coffee table I have a large book dedicated to animals who go all out for camouflage, each one a more extravagant assemblage than the last.

Recently we were watching one of the “The Most Xtreme” animal shows–this time “The Most” being “Best of the Bizarre”. The show included the platypus, naked mole rats, and others of similar ilk, and one in particular caught my daughter’s attention: the deep sea angler fish. Deep sea angler fish have one of the most bizarre reproductive strategies in the entire world: Male angler fish are about 1/50th the size of females, and when they find a female in the long, cold, dark, they attach themselves and never let go (although to anyone who’s had a super clingy ex this may come as no surprise).

Eventually, the male almost disappears entirely into the female’s body (I could make a joke here but won’t); their head disappears, they form a cooperative blood supply, and they look like they are some type of parasite or nasty case of the deep down warts–which scientists assumed for a long time they were until they figured out the truth.  After this section, for some inexplicable reason, there was a section on mermaids.  I didn’t pay close enough attention to see what parallel the show made between the bizarre but true and the bizarre but bullshit, but it confused my daughter.

Right after the show we were just about to eat dinner and I was busy prepping stuff.  My daughter was saying something about how strange the angler fish was; I was only half listening and distractedly commented,

“Yes, honey, the world is full of strange and wondrous things..” To which my daughter replied with the half question, half statement,

“But not mermaids”.

I am obsessed with NPR (National Public Radio).  Not too long ago I heard this hilarious Talk of the Nation show about a book, and a stage show, dedicated to truly awful teen writing.  Today I was rummaging around in my basement and came across what I consider to be my finest example of this genre and here it is for your reading displeasure:

I brought him there to see

I’m not much of a drinker–at least I didn’t used to be until I moved to a new urbanist neighborhood.  In my old neighborhood I had no friends–not even really casual acquaintances–among my neighbors, and there were no bars within walking distance (well unless you wanted to walk for more than 30-60 minutes to the bizarrely charming shit-kicker bar).

In my current neighborhood I know everyone, everywhere–there’s always someone who is up for either going out to our local tavern, a charming and beautifully done little Irish pub embellished with dark wood paneling and a fireplace–or for having casual planned or unplanned get-togethers; they pretty much always involve drinking, in our parks, on our porches, on our sidewalks, in my guest house–you get the idea. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, this is a bit of hyperbole for journalistic effect–no one in my neighborhood (at least that I know of anyway) is getting crapfaced and beating their wife, husband, and/or kids, or driving after drinking because we don’t have to–we can walk (or stagger) home from 3 bars and multiple restaurants, and our friend’s houses. When I say I drink more what I mean specifically is I went from about 10 oz a year of alcohol consumption to about 30, which isn’t lush territory by a wide margin.  However, I have found that the enormous number of neighborhood friends I have made, their proximity, the huge number of social events we have here (including 2 that are totally alcohol related-a wine tasting and Oktoberfest), and the ability to walk to alcohol sources such as the bars–and let’s not forget the liquor store is an 8 minute walk from my door as well–causes me to drink more than I ever have before.  New Urbanist design promotes drinking as a byproduct of more social interaction and walkability.  Not sure the Congress for New Urbanism wants to promote that angle.  We even joked to our developer that they could use the slogan “In our neighborhood kids always have someone to play with right outside their front door so the adults can stand on the porch and drink”.