My Family
Professor Membrane
Life is active and demanding. There can be no doubt about that, especially when one wants to use his or her knowledge to benefit humanity in as many ways as possible. That is the position I am in. I am a scientist (also the host of my science-themed television show and a minor puppet-builder), and what I do is complex, but since it comes easily to me, I take pleasure in it, and thus it has become a way of life. The idea is, when a person does not mind his work, no matter how challenging it may be, it becomes enjoyable. A very simple principle, really. And because I spend most of the time working for the sake of science, I am more often in the laboratory than anywhere else.
My son complained about this once. He told me I spend too much time focused on my scientific duties, and that I like being busy too much. I made an attempt to explain the situation to him; that I do what I do to help improve the world and benefit its people, and that yes, it does require a lot of time and energy. My son, Dib, looked somewhat disappointed at this. But what can I do? It can't be helped. I'm sure he and my daughter, Gaz, know by now how much my profession means to me. Neither of them seem terribly interested in it, though.
The boy, Dib, sadly enough, has an interest in what is termed the "paranormal". He's a smart kid, he really is, but yet he chooses to waste his mind on trying to prove the existence of supernatural phenomena, which is generally impossible to do. He learned very early on that actual science and "paranormal science" are very different concepts. He still comes to me with photographs and recordings of his findings, but as far as I can tell, none of it holds any credibility. There is always a scientific explanation in the end, so I constantly try to encourage him to start studying real science instead. I know he has the brains for it (I made sure of that); I've seen him try out science and not make the slightest mistake in conducting experiments or making calculations. But my son just doesn't seem to care much for following in my footsteps. It pains me. I can only hope that this will all one day change; that he will stop choosing to act insane and come to his senses, and drop the ridiculous nonsense he loves so much. When will he finally see that it's all an illusion?
I can't say that Gaz, my daughter, is very interested in science either. She's different from her brother, however. She occupies herself not with anything as strange as he does, but instead seems to like playing video games. When I see her sitting around the living room, that's usually what she's engaged in. I don't think I have to worry about it, though – at least video games keep her out of trouble. I think she's also into the horror genre, judging from the skull-shaped pendant she wears and her vampire-themed games. Occasionally she'll get angry at her brother for one reason or another, and try to throttle him out of spite as his sibling, so I try to prevent that when I see it about to occur. Other than that, my daughter is a well-behaved child. I'm not saying my son isn't, but there's always a good chance that his embarrassing hobby will make things get crazy.
I am thankful, though, that at least the earliest days of raising those two have passed. Those were busy and sometimes stressful times – keeping them out of trouble, disciplining them when necessary, changing diapers, feeding, bathing, and dressing them, putting them to bed, quieting their crying…and all the rest. I don't know how I did it all myself. It was not easy; there were some days when I wanted to sit down and weep from exhaustion. I had to remind myself that it was all going to be worth it – that it was worth it. I'm the one who had wanted them, and here they were, Son and Daughter.
There were good times, of course – their innocent smiles, laughs, and calls of "Daddy!"; watching them learn to walk and talk. Gaz looked so sweet with those bows I'd put in her hair. Oh yes, Dib for some reason had an unusually large head as an infant. It still is large, but back then it seemed even more so. Nobody understood it. I'm not quite sure who or what he got it from, but when I really thought about it, it got quite bothersome. He also ended up needing glasses right away, I found out. Anyhow, during those few years I couldn't do very much related to science. I was too tired to concentrate on it for long at the chances I was able to get into the lab in the basement.
It seemed best to teach the kids to be independent early on, and I am proud to say that at even at their young ages, they have grown responsible for themselves and for the house and its possessions in my frequent absence. I've been able to get back to work while still providing them with food; nearly everything else they need, clothes and such, they buy on their own with money from me. They're well on their way to being functional adults – well, Dib will be as soon as he quits his paranormal obsession. I am still able to contact the two of them through live or recorded video feed when they're at home and I'm not, and I also arranged for all of us to go out for dinner at least once a year as a family. My schedule only allows me limited spare time, you see. The kids appear to understand this, and rarely bring up the subject anymore.
I think of myself as a fairly good father. I may not be around them every day, but that's life. I'm a busy person. They have accepted that. Sometimes I only wonder if they know, or believe, that I love them. Thinking about that one day led me to setting up the "love insurance" video recording (a/n: see episode "Dibship Rising"), which the kids have to respond to at intervals. I'm not sure how effective the system really is – I haven't seen just how enthusiastic they are when responding or how they receive my end of the message – but I had to do something to remind them. I may look further into this issue.
I suppose every parent wonders about the matter of love connected with his or her children. Ah, if only there was enough time to find out what the case is with my own! There's hardly enough time I can divide equally between the components of my life at this point. It's almost a startling change to come home after many days of being addressed as "professor", "sir", and "Boss", and hear my son or daughter say "Dad". It's a change, but not an unwelcome one. As well as being Professor Membrane, that's my other status. I'm a dad.