In early August, I wrote of some escaping caterpillars.  I mentioned several caterpillars got away, and I couldn't find any of them.

Well, last week, I found lots of them.  Kids bedroom closet.  Top shelf.  About a dozen dark brown cocoons.

I grabbed them and figured they were dead, it being September and all, and threw them in the garbage can.

The kids noticed I was doing something; they sensed Dad was up to no good:

Annelis: Dad?  What are you doing?  What did you throw away?

Me: Nothing...

Mette: Dad!  What was it?

Me: Uh...well...

[Mette runs over to the garbage can, which has nothing but a scattering of cocoons in it. ]

Mette: OH!  Dad are these cocoons?

Me: (Damn!) Maybe...but I think they're dead

Annelis: Ah, but maybe they're not.


The girls then decided that no garbage shall enter this sacred cocoon sanctuary until further notice.  Sure, Mette threw in a used Kleenex now and then, but usually fished it out.

Today, I went to the garbage can, and it was empty (not counting the Kleenex).  I think they got thrown out, to with which I am just fine.  However, I am wondering what the right move is.  Should I ask the girls where they went?  Or would that lead to them realizing someone has murdered their chrysalises?   And if that does happen, they will surely blame me, though I was not the culprit. 

Of course, the girls could have relocated their small, crunchy shelled friends somewhere else.  And what if...just what if they are really still alive, simply haven't hatched yet, and we end up with a house full of moths?  Now that I think about it, I'm sure I only found half of them; I know more are lurking somewhere...hiding, biding their time until the big moth invasion is upon us.

I suppose this is sweet justice for my father, who some 28 years ago woke up at 2am to a strange rhythmic noise coming from the living room.  What was it?  He silently made his way closer to investigate, the sound growing louder as he drew near.  Glancing around the corner, he checked the living room for intruders.  No one there. 

What is that sound?  Louder now, and now that he's closer, it's clear the rhythm is more random, not unlike the sound of popcorn popping.  He glides into the room, scanning for the source.  He closes his eyes to home in on it.  Slowly, silently, he makes his way to the living room table.  He opens his eyes to see a metallic cylinder standing before him.  He stoops down, and realizes it's a coffee can.  A very large coffee can, and there's no question the noise is coming from it.

My father picked up the coffee can.  He cautiously opened the lid to find...

Grasshoppers!  Lots and lots of big Missouri grasshoppers.  With the lid to their jail now removed, some of the lucky ones on top of their fellow captives probably got away.  My dad didn't waste much time, however, and soon, they were all free in the front yard. 

I'll take cocoons over that any day.  Sorry, Dad.

Comments (Comment Moderation is enabled. Your comment will not appear until approved.)
You should remember to ask Mom about those grasshoppers next time we're all together! If I remember it was mom that heard them.. made dad get up to go see what it was! HA. That is a good memory.
Hope my kids never repay me :)
# Posted By Kristen | 10/30/08 7:00 PM