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Hunger games

July 2, 2012 - 21:41 -- Ricardo Ataide

The day had been a hard one. Starting at 6am, it had been filled with hours in front of the computer trying to finish a grant proposal, finishing the review of a paper and looking at dozens of images of placentas... I got home after an hour of public transport in Sao Paulo (why in the hell I still believe that I should not contribute to this city's smog levels is beyond me!!) and my wife was performing some weird australian version of Yoga/Pilates that I'm sure no Indian teacher has ever mastered before. The usual "how was your day" does not work for us. She is also a scientist working with malaria, so we dive straight into the "have you read that paper" and "what do you think this means..." kind of talk. As we are talking (or should I say, as she was talking) my mind was wondering... What will I eat?... How should I cook it?... All the while, from a position that defied the laws of logic, my wife was still chatting away. I was really hungry. In my mind, olive oil and garlic were already combining perfectly with salted mushrooms and pork stakes, but in reality I found myself sitting on the couch and nodding to my wife while saying that, no, I had not seen the pictures she had taken at the electron microscope and that, yes, i would very much love to see them now. 

A few hours later, I was sitting on the couch holding my dinner and listening to my wife chat about her friend that is now moving to Europe and I thought: Wouldn't it be great if we could find this gene (you know the one that makes my wife so chatty and happy all the time) and just transfer it to female anopheles mosquitoes? I'm sure that they would have tons of stuff to talk about, they would forget about dining on us, and everybody would be happy. Well, everybody except the poor male mosquito that just wants to feed on that sweet nectar but instead...


P.S. - The author wants to state, for marital purposes, that he was temporarily insane and must be considered an enourmous liar when he hinted at the remote, and far-fetched, possibility that his wife might be chatty...



Bart G.J. Knols's picture
Submitted by Bart G.J. Knols on

Hi Ric,

Well, sorry to notice that in our house things aren't much different. I guess that when both our wifes and us are working on malaria we're destined for a 24/7 world governed by malaria. Even our kids now talk more and more malaria as they grow up...

Hang in there,


Submitted by Ricardo Ataide on

I don't know whether I should laugh at the similarities between our households or cry at the lack of hope for  my case... I choose to laugh! 

Nice knowing I'm not alone.



Ricardo Ataíde