Your Mother Is Bitter

Back in college, 13 years ago (sigh), I took a class in French Linguistics – it was the most academically rigorous and interesting class I took in all four years at UGA.

For one, it was given all in French – a fact which caused me to get a late start on beaucoup de lab work, because I had not understood what the instructor had told us. The second hurdle is that it was a dual level class – meaning that there were both undergrads and graduate level students in the class – the grad students got some supplemental work, but it was a fairly high-level class for your average sophomore. I worked hard, made a B, and I was glad to get it.

I share this because of one of the exercises. There were two phrases we had to pronounce repeatedly. Ta mère est amère (your mother is bitter), and Patience passe science (patience surpasses science). Pronounced incorrectly, it sounds like you’re saying the same words twice - ‘your mother is your mother’ and ‘patience patience’. I don't know that I ever mastered them, but I sounded pretty good.

Whenever I’m told to be patient, I often wonder if in fact patience actually surpasses science. In context of Dad, which these days, a great many things are in context of Dad, does it mean that while he’s been helped by medical/scientific technology, ultimately, time will be the factor that makes him better?

Who knows?

The real issue requiring (and thereby testing) my patience these days is Lola’s DNA test results.

Do you remember the “Where’s my spy camera?” episode of the Simpsons (Actual title is “Homer’s Night Out” either Season 1 or 2) – that’s how I feel about Lola’s DNA.

So, who knows. Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace, Grace is a little girl who doesn’t wash her face.

The story on the DNA is this. Back in November, I had taken Lola to the vet for some new skin malady – and I asked the vet and vet tech (who I’d never met before) what they thought Lola was. Keep in mind, we found Lola on the side of the road in the North Georgia Mountains, so we have no idea, only a few theories. They made a few half-hearted guesses, and then the tech told me that they now have DNA tests to determine breed makeup. I Googled it as soon as I got home and found this: - an ungodly expensive test involving blood samples. Undeterred, I vowed to save my money and eventually get the test done.

For Christmas, my mother found and ordered this: This required only a cheek swab. I gave Lola the Maury Povich treatment and sent the nice people her DNA. Sadly, she was not any of the 38 breeds originally tested. But they asked if I’d be willing to retest her for free using their new expanded test – with over 100 breeds. Count me in! I sent that back in March – the results got sent out last week, so any day now, we should know a little more about who Lola really is. Added bonus – it may help us figure out some of her allergy issues – but mostly, this folly is pure curiosity. And for $119, you too can find out what your baby is.

And whatever the results, I love my babygirl. She’s a pure joy – even when she wants to get up at 4:30 AM. Who can blame her – the sun is out and birds are singing. Seize the day!

Tonight, I’ll be pulling my clothes out of the basement to get my summer wardrobe squared away. They’ll probably smell bad, so maybe I’ll get some more detergent on the way home.

Isn’t being a grownup fun?