Ninja Fighting Star

I was ranting to my husband about research issues. I had just picked up a copy of the FFB’s latest newsletter. On the front page was an article about some scientists creating photoreceptor cells.

The gist of my rant was I was hoping, a la Occam's razor, these scientists had already tried systemically delivering cells to see if they home and differentiate on their own. For more information on this concept, check out the abstract on the post from May 29th. I expressed to him that I hope they did not just start doing this under the assumption of the impenetrable blood/ brain barrier.

Now, I am very in love with my husband. He is not only funny, bright and kind, he is a fabulous dad. He is the man other women look at wistfully as he plays with our kids in the park. Because I love him, he can also infuriate me like no one else on the planet.

Since he used to run a research lab, he feels the need to defend his ilk from time to time.

This particular evening, as I ranted, I was organizing my very neglected high heel collection. Due to the current state of my vision, I rarely wear them anymore. Due to my height, I look like a crossdresser in them anyway. No insult to crossdressers intended.

He peered over his book and said, “Nat, sometimes you try things in research just to see if they are possible. Not necessarily because you think it is going to produce some end product.”

Dear God, grant me patience, I prayed. At this point I also had my hand on a metallic Jimmy Choo knock- off. My prayer for patience was sidelined by a fantasy in which I was using the stiletto like a Ninja fighting star. In my mind, I was hurling it through the air, after doing multiple revolutions it pegs my beautiful husband squarely between his doe brown eyes.

He read my expression and said, “Well, I am just trying to help you understand where they might be coming from.”

Do I look like the Dalai Lama?