I read somewhere that some bugs are very high in cholesterol if ingested by a human being. I really hope this is not true, because I’ve been having a rather steady diet of them lately.
It’s bad enough that I keep falling asleep in my chair only to be awakened by some fly trying to crawl in my mouth. You wake up fast while trying to spit fly off your tongue but so far, I don’t think I’ve actually feasted on one.
The same cannot be said for bugs when I’m out walking. I know that I need to walk, but unfortunately, this time of year, I can only get in a walk in the evening, just before dark—a time that my ancestors might have termed the “gloaming.”
Unfortunately, in the gloaming, the sun is actually going down, which reduces the heat, but encourages the bugs. I walk out there with my slow step and heavy frame and I have no chance of outrunning those bugs. Therefore, I end up waving my arms around like a disjointed windmill, trying to fend them off. And there are a lot of them.
I’ve been reading stories and watching programs which predict that some animal will take over the earth from the humans. I frankly don’t worry about tigers, dogs, bears or apes. I think the earth will be overrun by bugs.
I recognize this as the ugly truth every time I take this walk in the gloaming. Every type of winged creature makes its way outside and straight for the path I’m walking.
Charlie Bug will say to Arnold Bug: “Hey, buddy wanna have a good time?”
“Sure,” exclaims Arnold, “What do you have in mind?”
“Fly on over to the Fauth walk and we can fly into the old lady’s hair, eyes, ears, etc.” Charlie leads the way.
“Sounds like fun,” shouts Arnold as they fly my way. “It’ll be so easy, especially when they don’t have any better sense than to walk in the gloaming!”
Tonight, they were in particularly good form. I ran into the side of a building while trying to wave off some particularly persistent friends of Charlie. Arnold managed to win the annoyance trophy by flying between my eye and my glasses, but I’m afraid the news was not so good for Charlie. As I was talking to my husband, Charlie flew down my throat to become a mosquito canapé. All the spitting in the world couldn’t bring poor old Charlie back.
Hence, my hope that bugs are not high in cholesterol, because here is a human than seems bound to ingest more than her fair share. Happy gloaming, everyone—celebrate it by not walking with the mosquitoes.