image credit: West Point Steak House
We bought another fire-bellied toad today. (We've sort of lost a couple in the past...but we've reformed our weak terrarium-covering ways and that won't be happening anymore.) Anyway, this isn't about the toad, whose name, for now, is Bob. This is about fuel.
On the way to the East Bay Vivarium, I noticed I was perilously close to running out of gas. Cenzo asked me what happens to the gas to make it go away. I sort of stumbled through an answer until I hit upon an analogy I knew he would relate to. He loves to make fires in our outdoor firepit, so I told him it's like adding wood to a fire; eventually, you need to add more fuel to the fire because it burns up. The same thing happens with car fuel; the engine burns it up.
To sum up, I said: "So it's fuel. Just like you have to add more wood to a fire, you have to add more gasoline to a car."
And my cute little 8 year old carnivore piped up: "Just like you have to add more steak to my plate!" She's consistent!
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Shhhhhhh! Don't look now, but I'm home alone. Two kids are at the park with the dog (sweet Jesus, they are finally old enough to do this on their own); two kids are next door bugging the neighbor; one kid is at a soccer field with dad having some one-on-one time. I cannot plan for these moments; they drop like manna from heaven. I estimate I have exactly 2.34 minutes of peace and quiet. I'm pouring a glass of wine with one hand and typing with the other. Score!
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