Dolphin skull found in Detroit luggage
That poor dolphin, I think to myself. Probably the most innocent, harmless, adorable creatures on planet Earth, and also a pitiful victim of “wrong place, wrong time” syndrome. First, as potential canned tuna fodder in the 90s and now a vessel for who knows what in these troubled times.
“What did they use it for?” A curious voice murmurs out on my left side.
My youngest child, now 29, is reading the article over my shoulder.
“What do you mean?” I asked, blinking.
He leaned back and shrugged his shoulders. “It was put in a suitcase. What was the point? Was it going to be used for something?”
“You mean like for drugs?”
“What, Ma? No. I didn’t mean that!” he exclaimed, his mouth half-open in protesting disbelief.
“It’s probably for drugs.”
“Is that what the article said?” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily.
“I didn’t read the article, but I’m assuming. What else would it be for? Drugs.”
A pause. A long sigh. “That’s…that’s pretty ignorant, Ma. You should read the article and just get the facts.”
Huh. My kids talk about me a lot. They think I can’t hear them, but I can. Ignorant, paranoid, difficult, obsessive. Those are words I hear them say and I know they’re talking about me.
But I know I’m none of those things. I just tell it like it is.