Conversing with nature

Going grocery shopping with a three-year-old precocious child is a constant challenge. Tack on living on the third floor, being a single parent, and the middle of summer in Texas, and the potential exists for debacles of magnificent proportions. So far, I have been blessed not to have a grocery bag tear as I surmount the two flights of stairs to our temporary dwelling. Additionally, I discovered that, strategically, it is much more efficient to conduct our shopping trips at night, around 8pm, for numerous reasons. These reasons include much smaller crowds (which typically affords the premium available parking spots, not to mention less congestion in the aisles), less street traffic, and cooler temperatures when transporting the groceries both to and from the car. Recently, my daughter and I went on one of these late evening excursions. After putting everything away, I needed to return to the car to retrieve some items. As I climbed the stairs going back, I came upon some of Texas summers' flying inhabitants. I picked up the first cicada in an effort to rescue him from a crunchy death at the underside of a misplaced shoe. He wasn't too delighted with his sudden immobilization, and proceeded to buzz at me loudly enough to startle me, causing me to drop him. In classic "me" character, I buzzed back, retorting, "I dont know what you're so upset about. It ain't like you got bills to pay!" He didn't fall, but instead flew off, touching down after several moments of chaotic flight onto a covered light. "Good," I exclaimed. "At least now you won't get squished!" As I ascended the subsequent flight of stairs, lo and behold there was another green summer cicada at the top landing. Being of naturalistic servitude, I again attempted to save the diminutive creature from certain doom. Picking him up, I intended to transport him to a secure location. Again, the insect was less than content with this arrangement, and flew into my face. I screamed and then burst out laughing at myself. At least they don't bite