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The Jell-O cell

Two weeks, my children had for Easter vacation. Two weeks of fun, freedom and more chocolate than you could wobble your cellulite at [aside from Easter Sunday itself which my daughter spent throwing up - primarily over the newly-cleaned interior of my brother's car, but that's another tale...].

Two weeks. Plenty of time to get school uniforms cleaned and replaced [as it is a well known fact that children reserve their growth spurts for the holidays so they can catch you unawares the day before the new term starts and all the stores are closed] and most importantly get homework projects underway and completed.

So naturally, at 6:15 in the evening, after the first day back at school, my daughter "reminds" me that her science project is due in the next morning and that I said I would help her with it. I asked her if she had that in writing. Seriously. This is a child who, when her older brother wanted to swap teddy bears with her, had him sign a contract [which I am told, was written competently enough for it to have been legally binding had she and he not been minors. So I always check...I'll say/do/sign anything before I have had at least two mugs of coffee in the morning.]

Apparently I hadn't signed anything but I had [at some point] recklessly agreed to assist her in building a 3D model of a plant cell out of Jell-O. I had researched it, either there are a bunch of other people as crazy as I am out there or I am as crazy as everyone else, but there are actually quite a few web sites with detailed instructions on how to build a Jell-O cell*! But research is one thing, right then was the practical application and where was I going to find green Jell-O at that time of the evening? The supermarket, 20 minutes away. OK, shoes on, purse at the ready, opened the door...

"Oh, hello!"

A small child was standing on our doorstep, waving good-bye to her mother who was disappearing round the corner in her car. I thought for a moment...

"Were we expecting you?"
"Yes."
"Oh...um...right...where's your mother gone?"
"Don't know"
"Does she have her cell with her?"
"Nope"
"Do you have any green Jell-O?"
"Huh..?"
"Never mind, what time is she picking you up?"
"In 45 minutes"
"Why are you here?"
"You said you would look after me while she runs an errand"
"Do you have that in writing?"
"Huh..?"
"Forget it. Come in."

Well that was the supermarket plan gone out the window. It was a 40 minute round trip, we'd never make it. We would have to go for Plan B.

I sent both girls to the corner shop for some green Jell-O [or any other color they had, with or without a bottle of green food coloring, I didn't care at this point].

After 15 minutes, they still hadn't come back. It had gotten dark and I was contemplating what to tell the other mom when she arrived to pick up her child and found that I had, in the space of less than an hour, lost her.

Then they appeared, there was no green Jell-O at the corner shop so they walked to the next shop to see if they had any. Thoughtful but I could have done without the angst <g>

OK, we had orange Jell-O [that would do for the cell itself], jelly beans [the mitochondria and chloroplasts], a giant gobstopper [the nucleus] and a will to succeed.

Our guest was looking at me curiously,

"What are you making?"
"A plant cell"
"Why?"
"For the science project homework. What did you do?"
"I made a booklet about where babies come from"

Panic immediately set in.

"Babies? I thought you were learning about plant cells?"
"We are."
"Then why...oh never mind, get a spoon and stir that Jell-O."
"Can I use a fork?"

I found myself wondering if this child's mother had really run an errand or if she had just run away...

At this point my son arrived with another child in tow whom I had also agreed to have stay over as his parents were going out for the evening. Great. Two teenage boys in the kitchen with two near-teenage "we-do-not-suffer-fools-[especially-boys]-gladly" girls, a big jug-o-Jell-O and a lot of candy. There was sure to be trouble.

I had printed out a picture of a plant cell from the 'net and carefully arranged the jelly bean chloroplasts [green] and mitochondria [pink] on the print out so we had an idea of how this was all gong to look. As it transpired that there was also French homework [an environmental "Save The Whale" poster, in French, of course], I was popping in and out between kitchen and office because the printer had become possessed with the demon that says "No!".

Having exorcised the printer and returned to the kitchen I found two indignant girls, two giggling boys and my chloroplasts and mitochondria gone, all replaced by black jelly beans. Yeah, funny guys, real funny.

I had to bribe them with the candy I wasn't going to use to get them back. Darn, I was hoping to have eaten that later when they were asleep!

"Beep! Beep!"

The budding embryologist's mother had arrived to collect her. Trying not to sound relieved I said my good-byes, waved dutifully at her mom as they sped away into the night and looked at the clock. it was 8:15 pm.

Then I looked at my kitchen. Orange Jell-O was seeping over the edge of the kitchen counters like citrus ectoplasm. There were jelly beans stuck firmly to the tiled floor and my children were nowhere to be seen...

Typical.

Then I looked at the Jell-O cell. Something was wrong. The vacuole! The cell had no vacuole and the Jell-O was already half set [well I'd used 4 packets but only 250ml of boiling water - I wanted to make sure it set well...].

I rummaged through the cupboards like a mad thing until I found a can of grapefruit segments. Saved! I poked a hole in the semisolid Jell-O "Cytoplasm", pushed the segment in and then poured a little boiling water over the edges. Perfect.

Feeling very pleased with myself, I went to find the kids.

The boys were engrossed a computer game. My daughter seemed to be studying yet another schoolbook. Oh yes, music homework. "How many words can you make from the notes on a keyboard?".

C-D-E-F-G-A-B

She was struggling to make words longer than 3 letters. I offered up "Badge", thinking a 5 letter word would be excellent. How wrong could I be? Her music teacher could apparently make a 7 letter word and had told the class that they'd be really lucky if they could find it. Not to be bettered by the music teacher, I put the kids into bed and logged on. After dozens of anagram solving sites and dictionary searches, the best I could come up with was still "Badge". It was 2am when I finally went to bed.

I guess she won't get an A for her music homework but she'd better get one for that Jell-O cell and she'd better not spring anymore complicated homework surprises on me, otherwise I think I may be talking a holiday in another cell. The padded kind.

* Jell-O Cells