Studying Biology with my daughter

We’re studying Matric Biology this year...

I suppose I should qualify that. My daughter, ‘Fear Factor’ (she’s STILL learning to drive, and as a parent I have vetoed her suggestion of renaming herself ‘Fast and Furious’) is studying biology, because she didn’t study it at school and, as she wants to be a nurse, she needs to have matric biology.

“Why didn’t she do it as a subject at school?” you ask. You did, didn’t you? Oh? It wasn’t you? Oh…. That’s strange, because I distinctly heard SOMEONE asking…. And it wasn’t like the normal voices in my head….

Anyway. To answer the question, whose-ever it was, there is a reason she didn’t study biology at school. At the age of 15, when the infinitely wise Education Department insisted she decide what subjects she should write for matric, she hadn’t yet planned her life out.

Not like most girls who obviously (well, according to the Education Department) hit their mid teens and say
“Oh I think in three years’ time I will do a BCom, and then perhaps do a postgraduate MBA, before, of course, I move on to a Doctorate in Silly Things.”

No. Strangely enough, at 15 the career path that my daughter had in mind was quite different.

She wanted to be a one armed surfer.

Shall I explain?

Really?

Oh ok. But only if you insist.

This goes back a long time, from when Fear Factor was a little girl and first discovered the tv remote control button. From that day on she linked the ‘What she wants to be when she leaves school’ question to the dreaded ‘goggle-box’.

It all depended, you see, on what her favourite movie / TV show was, at the time.

For example, for quite a while Fear Factor thought Waitressing At A Coffee Bar (preferably one in New York called ‘Central Perk’) would be the perfect job, because then she would get to rub shoulders with ‘Friends’ like Joey and Ross and Rachel and Phoebe, …..

…..then she shifted to being a Police Forensic Expert because, well, Lieutenant Horatio Caine would no doubt find her assistance invaluable on the various crime scenes in CSI Miami.

Now you might wonder why we didn’t rush her off for psychiatric evaluation immediately, but we actually thought these career choices didn't actually seem too bad.

Perhaps you would have been of the same mind if you considered her earlier years, when she dabbled with the important idea of Becoming A Purple Dinosaur, the Headmistress Of A School For Wizards, and an Ogre Princess (green).

So, having seen the movie ‘Soul Surfer’ at the age of fifteen, barely a week before her matric subject choice had to be made, she understandably leaned towards classes that would be of most use to Someone Whose Arm Was Soon To Be Bitten Off By A Shark Prior To A Surfing Competition. Surprisingly biology wasn’t among them.

Of course by the time she was 17 she realized that perhaps there wouldn’t be THAT much money in one-armed surfing, and she would rather actually keep all her limbs(local drivers may heave a collective sigh of relief) and do nursing, (I think she had borrowed the ‘Grey’s Anatomy series from a friend). But alas, it was too late to change her matric subjects.

So now she is studying biology during her ‘gap year’.

Which means all of us are studying it. ESPECIALLY Mrs Ed. In fact I think Mrs Ed has learned more about biology this year than Fear Factor herself.

Actually I am exceptionally impressed with the old battle axe:- despite her advanced years and limited brain capacity, she is certainly throwing herself at the subject. It seems she eats, sleeps and breathes Biology.

And me? I must say I feel rather inadequate, because I am unable to help.

I’ve somehow lost my DAD mojo.

You see for many years Fear Factor and her brother The REE (Resident Expert on Everything) have been able to fire questions at me from their chosen homework stations (under the table, lying on the lawn, upside down in the hammock) and I have ALWAYS been able to answer.
“Dad, can great big lions climb trees?”
“Dad, howdya spell konsikwens?”
“Dad, what’s the square root of 1296?”
“Dad, what year was the Battle of Hastings?”
“Dad, if you drink sixteen 375ml bottles of beer a day for four days a week and half as much on the fifth day and three quarters on the sixth and none on the seventh, how many weeks would it take you to empty a twenty thousand litre tank?”

But now? I am thoroughly out of my depth.

“Dad, if a bisected cell of a hermaphrodite sub-aquatic plant were to divide by meiosis, how many chromosomes would there be in each of the new cells?”

“Huh?”

“Dad, what’s the name of the group of biomolecules that plants make from nitrates?”

What on Earth? Why is this important? I ask.

Of course my suggestion that she base her answer as follows....
“Dear Examiner, Don’t be so pathetic – this is of no consequence (note the correct spelling) when there are such important historical landmarks to think about…. such as the battle of Hastings (1066),” was about as well-received as an arrow in the eye.

But as I said, fortunately for Fear Factor, Mrs Ed has leapt into this Biology thing, gum boots and all. The woman has become a veritable font of information on the subject, and her thirst for more input is seemingly unquenchable. But whilst this is wonderful for the girl’s studying purposes, and gives me more free time to lie on the couch and ponder more important things than the reproductive system of a mollusc, I must also say it gets a little much at times.

Times such as 2.30am in the morning, especially.

Imagine having innocently closed one’s eyes at say 11.45pm, (already late, after watching Argentina lose in extra time to Germany) only to receive a sharp left dig in the ribs two and three quarter hours later by some crazed would-be biologist wife who has been lying in bed researching stuff on her Blackberry.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs Ed cries.

Within seconds I am lunging around the pitch-dark room (well, mostly dark, except for the glow of her cellphone screen) desperately trying to find the fire extinguisher, the anti-intruder defense system (baseball bat) and the bottle of Old Brown (just in case this obviously death-threatening household calamity forces us outside .)

“Get up! Get up!” I shout - desperate for someone to hide behind .

But there is no fire, intruder, or prohibition. Mrs Ed is just super-excited about something Google has found amongst some Professor Zerblinkenstein’s research notes.

“Now I understand!” she howls, “Of course! It’s so obvious. Pathogenic bacteria contribute to globally important diseases, such as pneumonia, which can be caused by bacteria such as Streptococcus and Pseudomonas, but ALSO foodborne illnesses, from bacteria such as Shigella, Campylobacter, and Salmonella. Why didn’t I think of that before…?”

Somehow I think that the response I am considering might irrevocably foil my chances of further slumber, or in the least result in a size 12 gumboot striking me on the forehead.

So I climb back into bed, and ponder if perhaps slipping something into someone’s bed-time tea might result in my getting a night of uninterrupted sleep…

Just a little sprinkling of Shigella, or a crumb or two of Campylobacter... or even a drop of Salmonella......?