Confessions of a former NMR fanatic

Today was a special day. Today I saw, for the first time in many years, live naked mole rats. This might not sound very special, but if you knew me in 7th grade, you would understand. When I was 12, I had a very intense, very strange obsession with naked mole rats (NMRs). I shared this obsession with G, who would spend many hours a week on the phone with me, discussing all aspects of these small, squirmy, eusocial rodents. I guess we just thought they were funny, but honestly, the whole thing got a little out of control. I'm pretty sure our parents thought we were totally insane, but I imagine they were glad that the craziest thing their teenage daughters were doing was talking about naked mole rats.
Naturally, NMRs were often the subject of my poetry. There are many examples of this, all of which will be revealed here in due time. This one here pretty accurately represents my feelings.

NMR Groove

NMRs, they've got the groove
They know every single move
They can squiggle, they can squirm
It's a dance you've got to learn
N is for naked, veiny and pink
M is for mole, blind not a blink
R is for rat, the rodent comes out
Maybe that's what makes their coolness no doubt
NMR you blow my mind
A better animal I could not find
I've said it before, I'll say it again
NMR, you are my friend.

Well, my secret is out. For at least a year of my life, I was obsessed with naked mole rats. And when I saw the pile of writhing, buck-toothed, fleshy things at the Pacific Science Center this morning, I can't deny that I felt a special connection to the little guys. NMR, you will always have a special place in my heart.