Nipple-Nibbling Fish

It is an odd quirk of human nature that the fewer things one has to accomplish in a given space of time increases the probability that nothing gets accomplished at all -- which sets the stage for our Christmas on the island of Ko Tao.

We had been planning a lazy, beachy Christmas since before we left California.  When we arrived on Ko Tao we found that when we stepped outside of our beach bungalow, sand was between our toes and it was 20 paces to the water.  Fewer at high tide.

o this fish took a mouthful of the one thing that was poking out -- my right nipple.

We didn't have much planned for the week, just to read books and catch up on family gossip with September's mom and cousin who met us for the holidays.  The island provided a lot of opportunity to goof off.  There was a dive shop every other door along the main street in town.  In addition to diving there was kayaking and hiking to be done, too.

We did a little hiking and kayaking, but not nearly as much as I would have guessed.  I wanted to go scuba diving, but since it had been six years since I last went, I needed an afternoon refresher course.  I never did get my act together enough to show up in class, so I contented myself with snorkeling.

We chartered a boat to take all six of us snorkeling one day.  The captain brought his wife and two-year-old son along for the ride.  The captain also brought a bunch of squished, overripe bananas, which I thought a curious accoutrement.  I sincerely hoped the bananas weren't going to be the snack he had promised us.

When we got to the first snorkel spot I quickly donned my fins and mask and jumped in, while the rest of the group was still on the boat sorting out equipment.  The snorkeling was first rate.  The coral was colorful and the water seemed to boil over with a kaleidescope of colorful fish.  I could clearly see the bottom, about 20 to 30 feet down.  We seemed to be in a city of huge sea urchins.  I went down to get a closer look.

When I came back to the surface everyone on the boat was squealing with delight.  It was then I noticed why the water seemed to be boiling with fish.  The captain was feeding them the overripe bananas and the fish were going crazy.

These were the varieties of fish you might see in a average saltwater aquarium.  They were about 4 to 6 inches long and brilliantly colored with all shades of the rainbow, and utterly harmless.

Fish are pretty stupid, yes?  I thought so, too. It turns out that fish are stupid, but not as stupid as I am.  I thought I could lure the fish over to where I was by pretending I had food for them.  It worked, too.  Soon I was surrounded by hundreds of eager mouths, each about the diameter of a soda straw, looking for a handout.

It was about this time that I noted the captain was feeding the fish from inside the boat, and I was in the water with them.  All the little fishies were very cute when viewed from far away, but less so when they were brushing against me with their mouths, working furiously to find something to fill them.

A little voice in my head told me it was time to stop pretending I had food and to get the heck out of there.  No sooner had I decided to obey the voice when one of the little fishies found something to munch on.  Not to be too graphic, but the water was a bit nippy for a warm blooded mammal and my, er, "headlights" were on high beam.  So this fish took a mouthful of the one thing that was poking out -- my right nipple.

A blood curdling scream ripped through the air.  Or it would have, had I not been under two feet of water at the time.  My scream just sort of gurgled out in a pathetic way that didn't let anyone else in on what was going on.  Suddenly it became clear to me why September had refused to breastfeed after the kids had sprouted both upper and lower incisors.

While making my getaway from the nipple-nibbling fish, all I could think of was how in some future scenario I would be lying in a morgue while someone was trying to identify my remains:

Scar on knee - check Scar from appendectomy - check Right nipple missing - check

It is funny how your brain works when flooded with adrenaline.

I spent the remainder of the day snorkeling with my arms folded resolutely across my chest and my hands tucked under my armpits.  Everyone else in the group spent the day snickering conspiratorily, sneaking bits of food into the water wherever I happened to be.

Before we knew it, we had spent a week accomplishing nothing.  September's cousin, Melissa, had something called a "job" she had to return to where she did something called "work."  This all sounded vaguely familiar, but we tried to talk her out of it anyway.  Initially she considered ignoring this "job," but something called "guilt" came into play and she was off to Bangkok to catch a flight back home.  September's mother, a.k.a. "Granny," was going to travel with us for about two more weeks.

September declared that she really wanted to go to Angkor Wat, a huge temple complex in Cambodia, known to be one of the world's premier archaeological sites.  I was happy to watch the sunset from our beach bungalow and try to retain my one remaining nipple.