The Boy and I were at the beach the other day when a seagull landed nearby with an eel in its beak. They wrestled for quite a while, with the eel trying to squirm back into the water and the bird dragging it back onto the sand, until finally the seagull got the eel's head in its mouth and swallowed it whole in several gulps. And it wasn't a small eel, either.
You'd think The Boy would be fascinated by this, but he barely looked up from his bucket of seaweed and sand. I admit that as the gruesome scene played out I became less and less sure of my desire to have him watch, but it did amaze me that he and the other kids around didn't seem to care. The adults, on the other hand, were riveted and there was quite a crowd by the time it was over.
I mildly scolded him for not wanting to watch nature at its most disgusting, but maybe it was for the best. The last thing I need is for him to wake up in the middle of the night shouting, "Bird ate eel! Bird ate eel!"
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