Lampreys and Roadkill

Kristine is moving out today. (Why isn’t there a picture for “Double-Plus Emoticon Frowney”?)

She got an internship in Michigan, measuring and weighing and sometimes killing lampreys. If you’re a history geek, the lamprey’s main claim to fame is causing the death of Henry I (not Henry VIII like I originally thought!), because lampreys, in their eely grossness, were a medieval delicacy and the king was little too fond of them. (I wonder if that what we’re eating at Allison’s wedding?)

If you’re Kristine, of course, you can tell a healthy eely-thing from a sick one, a male slime-creature from a female, how old they are, etc. It’s like her superpower.

I’m really sad that she and her superpowers (and her newts and her frogs) are leaving Castle Von Hoffmann. I don’t know who’s going to explain the terrifying world of biological science to me now. Who is going to watch Harry Potter movies with me now? Will I even get VCR access if there’s only me watching Harry Potter… again? And I don’t know if I’ll ever return to that Pre-Kristine state, before I paid so much attention to roadkill.