My daughter and I name them. We have conversations with them. Track their whereabouts in the room. Wonder about their activities throughout the day. They become like family. We introduce them the visitors. Oh, that’s Fred and Barney… JoeBob is over there. It’s really quite entertaining. I mean it’s not like they have any intention of leaving. I can pick them up and put them outside but I’m pretty sure they just come right back in. I actually considered marking them at one point to prove it’s the just agreed again, but I was afraid nail polish would kill them. And that’s how we manage our stick bug situation over here.
WAIT. That’s a lie. It’s not in the cigarette lighter outlet. It’s in the keyhole next to it that controls the airbags!
I didn’t want to run the risk that this garden-variety plastic ivy one would find at your neighborhood Joann’s art and craft store would catch fire.
In related news… One time I put my truck key in the keyhole, hoping it would open the door way to Narnia. But alas there was no such transportation reward. Only shed tears in the salty realization that I would indeed have to go to work. 😢
I got it at the second Nightmare on Chicago Street I ever went to up in Elgin. It was laying on the ground in its own crumpled heap of plastic greenery as I was making yet another of my least hasty exits. When I got back to my truck I stuck it into my cigarette lighter outlet thing and it’s lived there ever since… 🌿
This rings very true for me, as it most likely does for many. Especially those of us who come from a world of using and abusing, there is often more hurt, abuse, betrayal than not. But growing older and learning to trust your partner… that’s actually a way of trusting yourself. And that has been the hardest part for me. Thank you for sharing this, Travis. It gives me some things to reflect upon and appreciate today.