CNN had a story a couple of days ago about some researchers who've started studying the effects of psilocybin, which is the chemical in psychedelic mushrooms. Apparently scientists suspended research of the chemical back in the '60s when recreational use started skyrocketing. But the new experiments showed pretty definitively that this chemical can evoke a profound spiritual experience in users, and the effects are often felt for months causing some of the subjects to report that the experience had changed their lives. The CNN story had a stern warning from the researchers: Absolutely do not try this at home. Which to me is a little like the reporters who flock to the hurricane target zones saying "This is a very dangerous situation, and you should leave as soon as possible." But the viewers at home hear this: "Wheeeeee! Hurricanes are fun! Look at how cool it is for me to try to stand up in 50 mph wind. Yeehaw!"

Jesse called me at work yesterday afternoon to tell me that his dad had dropped his pocket knife in the kitchen and had put a hole in the kitchen floor. No one had lost a toe, thank goodness. Also yesterday, SkooterPie managed to totally freak Jesse out while they were playing on the trampoline. They were wrestling, and SkooterPie's wrestling name was Tickler Spankler. Something about the faces SkooterPie was making apparently really scared Jesse, despite the fact that his wrestling name was Death.

And here's something the parenting manuals don't really tell you how to handle. I'm in the middle of making Jesse a milkshake, and SkooterPie walks in holding Jesse's toy hammer and announces that Jesse is banned from playing with it. He found the hammer lying in the grass next to our brick barbecue thingy, that now has chipped places all along one side. Jesse said he didn't know how it happened. Now, giving a child a milkshake after hearing this news and denial seems somehow wrong. But I had invested time in this milkshake, and I wasn't about to pour it down the drain. So I gave it to him anyway and sent him to his room to drink it. Later, neighbor kid Oliver showed up at our door and I quizzed him about the hammer (because they'd been hanging out in our back yard), and he denied having anything to do with it either. In fact, I think he was five seconds away from telling me that he'd never even been in our back yard before and that he was in fact Schmoliver, Oliver's twin brother. So something is definitely up there.