Need a gift for the chronically daydreaming research scientist in your life? Me neither, but apparently knockout rats are ideal.

Up until yesterday, I had never heard of a knockout rat, although the name is reminiscent of both fainting goats and a litter of narcoleptic puppies I once saw in a documentary. There is an ad for knockout rats on the back of Science magazine, you see, and that was the last thing I saw before falling asleep last night, so all day today I’ve had the phrase ‘knockout rats’ kicking around my brain pan. Knockout rats, knockout rats… It makes for a catchy rugby squad mascot or band name, don’t you think?

Back when Tex and I first start talking to each other, I told him that I didn’t want a romantic relationship, but if he wanted a friend, blah, blah, blah… (he probably quit listening at that point, anyway.) Undaunted by my typical chick disclaimer, Tex’s response was to shower me with gifts: chocolates, flowers, romantic dvd’s, books, and even a subscription to Science News.

At that point in time, I was only home a few nights a week, and we got into the habit of eating dinner together via Skype on those evenings. Tex called these virtual dinner dates, but I would always hasten to remind him that I did not want a boyfriend, so it wasn’t technically a date… although the gifts sure were nice. Still, if things seemed too flirty, I could always bring up an article in Science News to switch to more platonic ground.

Well, that was then. Here I am now, living in Texas. Naturally, we forwarded the Science News subscription. It was kind of funny when Tex called, because when the operator noticed that the new address matched his billing address she blurted, ‘What’s going on? Is she living with you now?’ To which he replied, ‘Yes. I blinded her with science.’ ‘That is so romantic,’ the operator replied, ‘I don’t hear that very often.’

I still love that magazine, both online and off, but I have a new nickname for it: Science Snooze, because I can put Tex out-like-a-trout and snoring in under 5 minutes when I read it aloud to him in bed. Kinda makes me wonder if I missed my calling as a hypnotist, or a golf announcer.

At any rate, knockout rats or no, I am never going to stop daydreaming. It’s way too fun, and I am way too good at it.