Serendipitous Student Connection #1 (Moth/ Snow/ Wife)


Sometimes a student says something so incisive that it completely changes the direction of a class discussion, and even the tone of an entire lesson; for instance, this week I taught Virginia Woolf's posthumously published suicide-note of an essay, "The Death of the Moth," and when we read the description of the moth's futile fluttering from one corner of the window to the next-- because it was trapped between the pane and the screen-- I asked the class who had done this before: shut a bug inside a window between the glass and the screen, and several kids raised their hands and admitted to this cowardly act, and we agreed that sometimes it is quicker, easier, and more convenient to isolate and ignore the problem of the bug instead of taking initiative and actually swatting, squishing, or removing it . . . but then one girl looked me squarely in the eye and said, "Why don't you just kill the bug? Why leave it in the window for later?" and I told her that is exactly what my wife would say in this instance, and that there were two kinds of people-- those that kill the bug immediately, and those who shut it in the window so it can suffer a slow death and be dealt with later . . . and then I told the class what happened on the weekend . . . we had an unusual October snowstorm and my wife instructed me to shovel the snow and then she got all dressed up in a tight dress and sexy boots and headed off to a baby shower and I took the kids sledding and when I got home, I was tired and wanted to watch the Giants game, and the sun was out, so instead of shoveling the driveway and the porch, I decided to let the sun melt the snow-- the same way you might let the sun dehydrate and fry the bug trapped in the window pane-- but the sun failed me, failed me miserably, and my lovely wife arrived home in her sexy boots to the same amount of snow that was there when she left and instead of reminding me to shovel it, she went ahead and shoveled the driveway and porch in her tight dress and sexy boots, and I think she did this so she could shovel even more guilt on me when she found me half-asleep on the couch, watching the football game .  . because she's the kind of person who kills the bug-- she doesn't leave it trapped in the window for later-- but the real question here is: Why do women get all decked out for a baby shower?

7 comments:

zman said...

Can you send your wife to my house next time it snows?

Al DePantsdowno said...

Do you have any pictures of her in those boots?

Dave said...

catherine is not allowing me to film her in the boots until i complete my chores.

Igor said...

This is why Dave and I are such good friends. Because we don't understand each other in the least.

Dave cut the 6.9 billion people of the world into just two groups -- those who kill the moth now, those who kill it later. It does not occur to him that there could be a group of people who grab the moth in their hands, walk to the door, and throw it out into the world.

I am in the third group. Something about "all God's creatures" and the lesson for the kids (which becomes hypocrisy when I kill mosquitoes). I think this behavior began years ago when I spent lots of time in my Arlington basement with the full bar and the hoppy spiders / grasshoppery things became my friends. The moths eat my sweaters, but it's not worth murdering them. Have you see my taste in sweaters??

zman said...

That's a Cosby swettah! A COSBY SSSSWETTAAAAH!

Danimal said...

7 billion

Dave said...

i actually set moths and shield bugs free-- but i kill mosquitoes and flies. my son ian puts everything into little plastic containers and brings them into house . . .

A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.