I was talking to my dad today, telling him about this past week -- a week in which different men have, at various times and in various ways, confounded me. So i asked him. What's up with men, Dad? Why do i find them so difficult to understand? Why do they do things that to me mean one thing, but to them mean something entirely different?
His answer struck me as eminently sensible, though i confess i only listened to the first sentence. He said, and this is a direct quote, "See, men are kind of like insects." He talked a little bit more, but my brain had fixated on that one bit, so i don't remember the rest of it.
His simile seemed so ludicrous, so post-modern, so lacking in any basis in reality that it somehow put me at ease. "oh," i thought. "i get it. i'm not supposed to understand."
here is my dad, with the next generation of insects, my baby brother, Bug.
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