As a kid I spent a lot of time in our backyard pool during the summer. I was a fish, and it was our summertime fun, my family not having the resources for expensive vacations. Although back then, a family with six children could go the Disneyland. Now you would probably need a second mortgage on your house. Usually, we visited relatives for our vacation, and reunited with our cousins.
I remember one of our favorite games in the pool was to capture moths that fluttered and landed on our Lantana bushes. I played this game with my cousins and friends. The Lantana would attract scores of moths, and to our astonishment and delight, we could catch them by grabbing hold of their wings. Up close, we saw their black, dotty eyes and their antennae twitch.
But the object of the game was to take this little moth, squirming in our grasp and swim with it to the bottom of the deep end, and put the moth in the drain. Did I think I was providing a better place for the little moth, maybe an enchanted moth party on the other side of the drain? No, probably not.
Usually, it was that the moth must go in the drain. End of story. Did we feel remorse? No. It was mission accomplished. Did we maybe think about it hours later after it had sunk in? No. Did we understand that we brought countless moths to their death in this practice? No.
Had my parents been present, I’m sure they would have scolded us. My parents had no idea this was going on. Don’t worry, I’m mostly a normal, functioning adult, who wishes no harm done to animals and has a great respect for nature. Will I be sharing this story about the little moths with my kids? No, not yet.
Ah, but I do feel so much better, so relieved that I could share it with you, dear reader. I feel so much better. I’ve been holding that story in for decades. Oh, it’s a weight off my shoulders.
My kids have no desire to put moths in the drain, thank goodness. Although there is this:
It’s a Roly-Poly Playground. In the name of science, of course.
I don’t know who could have bought this. This imaginative playground will most certainly shorten the life of countless roly-polies. In light of my recent memories of detaining insects, I vow to release the roly-polies from this horrible fate.
What do you like about roly-polies, I asked my six-year-old son. He gave this response: They roll, they turn into balls, and they’re easy to crush.
So, there you have it. I’ll do what I can.