Even though Rocket was born at Stanford, this was really his first time checking the place out. We went to participate in a mood development study put on the the psychology department. Basically it involves him looking at different faces on a screen for a few minutes and later on they will determine how long he looked at what and then conclude whatever. Well something like that. I don't really sweat the details as I assume this is for research and not going to end up on YouTube.
Clover did those too when she was an infant, so I felt I had to do the same for Rocket, plus it is kind of fun, we support academia and he gets a shirt or toy at the end. I picked a shirt for him, which was wise because on our way back to the car, he let out a major sneeze, resulting in snot ALL over my sweatshirt. The new shirt was used to clean up my sweatshirt enough so I didn't gross out the other moms when picking up Clover at preschool.
We arrived when the little undergrads were racing around to class and it felt like we were caught in a swarm of bikes. I was scared when crossing a small street on the campus because there were bikes everywhere. If watched from above, it probably looked like I was the frog in Frogger. Rocket loved watching the kids on bikes. He kept twisting in his sling to watch them pass.
Rocket also loved the two undergrad girls helping with the study. He did his flirty move where he acts coy, then later smiles, sticks out his tongue and lunges forward toward the object of his affection. The girls ate it up, which only encourages him to continue. He hated the actual study because it was dark and his love interests left the room to work the camera. When they returned, he was squeaking with excitement.
We had to give a DNA sample to determine if we had a specific mood gene. Rocket just needed a cheek swab, but I had to fill a small tub (think eye cream container) with spit. Of course I went into this thing feeling a little dehydrated, so then having to work up the spit was hard. When the undergrad handed the tub to me, I didn't think it would be difficult, but once I saw the tiny amount of spit that came out of me, I knew I was in trouble. It took five minutes, but I finally got it done. Toward the end I was beginning to gag just from looking at the tub of spit. I gross out easily.