Anatomy 101

Anatomy 101

You must teach these things . . . to correct [believers] when necessary.

Titus 2:15

In fourth grade science, my son, Shaefer, spent months studying the human body. One evening we reviewed all the information he had learned.

“Femur, patella, tibia, and fibula,” he said, pointing to his leg.

“That’s great,” I said. “Now what about the bones in the arm?”

He moved his finger down his arm. “Humerus, radius, ulna.”

“Good job, Dr. Shaefer,” I said, beaming. “Let’s go over the digestive system.”

Beginning with the mouth, he recited each body part that our food passes through. But when naming the organs south of the belly button, he got stuck.

To unglue his mental block, I asked where the food goes after the small intestine.

After a long pause, his older sister chimed in. “Cologne,” she whispered.

“What’d you say?” I asked.

“Cologne. The tube coming from your small intestine.”

“It’s not pronounced cologne,” I laughed. “It’s colon, ´kō-len.”

Jumping on the correct-his-sister bandwagon, my son informed her that the tube connected to the intestines is, in fact, the sarcophagus, not the colon.

“And in case you didn’t know, that thingy at the back of the throat is called your anus,” he said, laughing.

Confusion unleashed, Celeste fervently disagreed while I tried to regain control of the science lesson gone awry.

“You guys, stop!” I opened the science book, pointing out the path that food travels through the body.

“It passes the uvula after you swallow, then goes down the e-e-e-sophagus, not the sarcophagus, see.”

We followed the food trail until it reached the ´kō-len, then out the body through the anus. Shaefer giggled at that word, as he always did.

Thinking the anatomy lesson was over, my daughter pointed to her forearm.

“Hey, Mom, that was really humerus, wasn’t it?”

—Christine Thomas

Lord, when I pray, help me to get the words right. May I not spend all my time asking for things I think I need. But when I forget and do that, please gently impress upon me your will. Amen.