Dear reader, I know. I know I said I was on hiatus and that this, along with a slew of previous false starts, does little to inspire your confidence in me but franchement, tout le monde! Did you really expect me to keep this to myself??
(warning: excessive use of punctuation ahead...)
You're lucky I didn't call you up in the middle of the night when all this was going down because believe me, I wanted to. I also considered waking my husband, summoning the spirits, and googling how to reverse a panic attack, but in the end I narrowed it down to two of the three and my better half slept on.
Have you ever seen a praying mantis molt, dear reader?
I assure you: it's nothing less than mind boggling. It's like someone managed to cram an off-season linebacker into jockey silks without anyone knowing it and then, in some Monty Pythonesque moment of feeding him one too many fruit flies, POW! He bursts out of his tiny suit looking like he's been on a diet of spinach and steroids all along.
I mean, it's more complex than that, dear reader. It involves wonder, finesse, handwringing, and awe. It contains moments of recrimination, of regretting overdue books at the library, of deal making with the universe, of trying to figure out how to self administer CPR.
Oh...and the mantis. Yes, it was quite rigorous for him, as well.
Still, my adoration for him is fervent as ever, if laced with newfound terror.
ps. As a side note to anyone considering keeping a mantis as a pet: you need a taller cup. And I mean it, I really have to take a break. xo