Daughter WhiteCoat doesn’t have the stomach for her science class.
They were dissecting a sheep heart in her class not too long ago and she was becoming increasingly queasy. Apparently the sheep had been recently slaughtered because she said that there was still blood in the heart. She was more skeeved because the science teacher was manipulating and dissecting the muscle without using gloves.
She went up to the table where the dissection was taking place, but had to leave the class at one point because she thought she was going to throw up. Mrs. WhiteCoat and I? We can watch surgery while eating a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. Or eggs and sausage.
After the class, several “concerned” classmates came up to my daughter. Instead of consoling her, they said “Eeeeewwww. You have heart juice on your sleeve” or “Gross. There’s heart juice on your notebook.”
What the hell is heart juice? It’s called “blood” people. You all fricking fail.
I gave her a bottle of disappearing ink and told her to squirt it on those people’s notebooks, saying that they had crab heart juice on their notebooks (yes, horseshoe crab blood is blue and it contributes to modern medicine), but she wouldn’t do it.
Can’t wait for them to start discussing reproductive system. I’m going to have to send the teacher some smelling salts for use on my daughter.