February 2nd is my second anniversary with The Rocket Scientist. And while most people know the date as “Groundhog’s Day,” he and I tend to refer to it as “Tapeworm Day.” Settle in for a story, kiddos.
First off, confession time: The Rocket Scientist and I don’t remember when we met. Shocking, I know, and completely violating the romance rule. You know the one. The first time you see the other person everything else goes into soft focus, and suddenly Cole Porter is next to you with his piano and singing, which would normally be weird since he’s dead but he’s singing “De-Lovely” and everything’s misty so it’s all good (in fact, it’s de-lightful).
Yeah, that didn’t happen with us. We know we met sometime in the fall of 2007 in the bar where we played trivia, but that’s all we’ve got.
What we do remember is our first big conversation. We were at a fondue party and The Rocket Scientist asked a question about tapeworms. There were two ways the conversation could go after that: (1) Ignore The Rocket Scientist and be able to keep eating our beef and chicken without imagining it full of tapeworms, or (2) Start having that discussion and switch to frozen pizza. While everyone else opted for option 1, I took the road more disgusting and The Rocket Scientist and I had a lovely chat about intestinal parasites.
So, the moral of this Cole Porter-less parasite story is that since The Rocket Scientist and I didn’t have a “meet-cute” to remember, we decided to have a “conversation-cute” instead. So long Groundhog’s Day, hello Tapeworm Day! However, don’t carry that substitution any farther than that. I don’t want to image what hole the tapeworm is emerging out of to see its shadow.
For this anniversary, I wanted to get The Rocket Scientist something tapeworm-themed. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the dearth of tapeworm paraphernalia out there. I was about to give up and get him a plush Viking Kitten (someday, Rocket Scientist, someday), when I was suddenly brilliant and remembered that I have tapeworm diagrams in my undergrad lab books of yore. So I found an image and embroidered over it to make a one-of-a-kind, exceptionally geeky gift that I think The Rocket Scientist will love. I present you with:
Note how I segmented the hearts the same way tapeworm proglottids are segmented, ready and waiting to be expelled from their hosts just like my love is ready and waiting to be expelled from me (metaphorical expulsion, of course). Oh yeah, this is love zoological style.