I snuck up on Todd last night and startled him. This is normally not a terrible thing, because the victim will playfully punch the startler and they’ll laugh it off. However, last night it was a terrible thing, because I startled him enough for him to fling his arm out. Also normally not a bad thing, but as Todd informed me afterward last night, he has slightly shallower sockets than most, so his arm popped right out of joint when he flung it. He was in a good bit of pain and this morning he told me it’s sore. He’s had this happen before and so he figures it’ll be sore for about a week. :( I feel terrible and keep asking him if it’s okay, if there’s anything I can do, and if he’s mad at me. He’s not mad at me, fortunately, because he says it was an honest mistake. Darn right! Holy crap, if I’d known his limbs could just go snapping out of place willy nilly, I wouldn’t have jumped out at him any in the past.
In other news, I glanced in the crab aquarium this morning and recoiled: there’s a little mini-Zoidberg outside of Zoidberg’s shell. He molted. The little guy has molted before and it really wasn’t that long ago, so I’m surprised he molted again. I may have to look into even larger shells than the ones they currently have. Crabs are really creepy when they molt, because the part that comes off looks just like they do, only with bits of goo on it. Taking it out of their cage is not a favorite task of mine. What’s strange is that Ricky Bobby hasn’t molted once, and I’ve had him for several months now. He’s a different type of crab than Zoidy, though; maybe that has something to do with it.
My mom told me she’s taken up writing my grandmother, and I think it’s a great idea. I almost never see my grandma anymore and I’ve often worried about the idea of her passing away without really getting to talk with her. Sure, I saw her pretty often as a child, but since I came to college, the visits have been few and far between, like a couple of times per year. Well, I’ve asked for her address from my mom and I’m going to take up writing to her, too. As little as I know about history, I still know that she lived through some fascinating times. She just missed the 1918 influenza outbreak but she sure lived through WWII, which would be very interesting to hear about from someone that lived through it as opposed to a book.
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Karl has similar problems with his hip. I remember we were on holiday last year (possibly the year before even) and he slipped down a sandbank, his hip popped out and it scared the crap out of me because he looked like he’d died (I know, dodgy hip != death, but it was the shock!)
Would definitely recommend writing to your Grandma. I stopped seeing mine when I started college and moved in with Karl and then she died of a stroke. I regret every second that I *could* have spent talking to her or writing to her but didn’t.