Okay, so Nicholas gets a birthday present from his aunt and uncle.  The present is some kind of kit that allows you to hatch out artemis eggs in a little plastic pool. As Nicholas won this week's Top Scientist award at school, it is no surprise that Nick loves the kit.  We followed the directions very carefully, adding spring water to the pool, putting the packet of eggs into it and then following that with a tiny pinch of salt. According to the directions, we have only to await the hatching of the artemis.

One problem: the artemis don't hatch. And while this in itself is no great loss -- if you google image artemis you will discover they look a lot like headlice but live, thank God,  in water -- I feel a kind of responsibility to these water lice creatures. I cannot help but feel I've failed them. If you look at them under a microscope or even a magnifying glass they look much like an animal. They have eyes (compound, in fact!), two antennae, little feet like things that are called thoracopods and something called a telson that may be unique to ugly lice-like mini-monsters who disappoint everybody by remaining dormant in their egg states despite every effort.

Anyway, I have no idea why I write this, except that I recently spent some time with a friend of mine discussing whether or not worms can feel pain. Nicholas has taken an interest in fishing and, while I do eat fish and so understand just how much of a hypocrite I am, I cannot bring myself to actually hook, spear, bludgeon or otherwise kill a fish.  Plus, the worm was bothering me. Does it feel pain? Does it realize it is being impaled? If so, what does that mean to a worm? I mean, do they mind?

I'm guessing yes, although to be honest it remains unclear.  Worms are strange, unique, unlucky little animals. Necessary, yet hated, used mostly as bait or eaten by birds. They do, however, have five hearts. But artemis, these things that are now sitting in a plastic pool of bottled water in my kitchen, they are just frankly useless. Plus, I've discovered that if they had hatched (and so far no sign) they'd grow up and then the big ones would eat the little ones. How traumatizing: cannabils in my kitchen.

I am wondering how long I have to keep them before pouring them outside? What would be a respectable amount of time? Two days? Five?  I have an awful feeling that one day I'll find the cat drinking out of the plastic pool and she'll be swallowing artemis eggs, which one must remember are actually lice. Parasites? Could the cat die? If so, do I want the artemis in the first place?

Science kits turn out to be very dangerous. I'll have to ask Nicholas what to do.