So there's this bumblebee hovering over our deck for about 2 weeks now. I say (actually I write) “bumblebee” but it could be “bumblebees” since I can't tell bumblebees apart unless they wear name tags, which they rarely do. This insect seems quite taken with this particular area of our deck. There is a bag of garbage that's been there for a while but he doesn't seem interested in it. Also, he chased off a bug of indeterminate species a few minutes ago. It's possible this bumblebee is wacko but I can sympathize with him (wacko or not). I spend most of my life hovering around the same patch of mental real estate never venturing out where life is or allowing anyone to get too close to my spot of land. I have staked it out so well I can find the edges blindfolded at night with no eyeballs. That's right. NO eyeballs. Why do I stay here? It's comfortable I guess. In the same way that a recliner in the middle of a pride of lions is comfortable. Yeah it feels good but pretty soon I'm going to need to run or act all crazy like some kind of crazy lion so they take a step back and are like “Is he for real?” and I'm like “Heck yeah I'm for real!” and while they're discussing whether they should eat me or keep their distance I use my jet pack to fly away. Then you'll see some pretty sheepish looking lions 'cause they know they should have seen that coming. Meandering prose can be difficult to reign in sometimes so I'm going to put several periods at the end of this sentence to slow things down..........That should do it. I stay because it's what I know and all that stuff I don't know is absolutely terrifying. Will I ever get off the deck? Honestly, probably not. Will the bee? I don't know. Ask an entomologist.
No comments:
Post a Comment