It’s fun to come home with the kids and hand your son the house key so he can run ahead and then watch him stare at the front door and step back and look at you from over his shoulder like, ‘Mom, whaaaa-?’
Because he had spotted this guy:
Now, I’m that mom and made the saving of the praying mantis a whole elaborate experience, complete with talking to the scared creature, conducting the plastic cup/mail envelope rescue, and setting it free in the dirt of our mini-pomegranate plant.
Then we watched as it took about 20 minutes to climb up from the bottom of the plant to the top of our stone wall.
And eventually fly away to bite off the head of her scorned lover or be bitten by his own.
For days afterwards, the kids would run to the front door to see if we’d have another guest. No such luck yet.
Whadya got: