My most recent gig for the Company ended tonight. It's seasonal work. And as I've mentioned before in this blog, the job is scoring standardized tests. Two of the items we had been working on concerned third graders reading a little passage about spiders, and then answering a couple of questions. No doubt I'm ripping asunder some confidentiality form I signed, but here are a few responses that got a smile out of me … those grim hours squinting at the eccentric handwriting of very young people.
“The jumping spider is very jumpy.”
“The jumping spider 'as you know' jumps.”
“The jumping spider can jump ten inches. That is probably over one whole foot!”
“A jumping spider uses its vision. After it sees a prey it jumps on the helpless little insect.”
“[Spiders hide] so they won't get termanaded. Sientest need spiders for cospearments.”
“It's important for spiders to hide because they can't just catch their prey by walking up to it and asking hey can I eat you they have to be stealthy.”
“So they sneak out of their cage when some body opens it. Then, they just start crawling on peoples back. Next when the buyer leaves the spider bites the clerk on the neck.”
And my favorite:
“It's C! The answer is always C.”
@@@@@@@@@@@@@
My sister, in her blog, added a photo of the biohazard box she bought from the vet to dispose the needles she uses for her diabetic cat. She even went so far as to make a collage with Hummel figurines and biohazard logos.
I mentioned to her that there are needle disposal stations in the rest rooms of the Company (for the diabetic employees, one presumes — but, perhaps I'm not yet aware of their methadone program).
On a not so goofy pet note, Jennifer (whose blog I read without fail) writes about an elderly cat of hers whose health is quickly declining. I found myself wondering why reading about a dying pet can often carry more emotional weight than reading about a dying person? I think one of reasons has to do with the innocence of unconditional love that people receive from their pets. That, and these animals' absolute dependency upon us.
The heart-breaker is, it can't always be Jerry Falwell.