At some point-- while I was eating lunch and simultaneously hot-gluing dead bugs to card stock-- I realized that I've changed. A few years ago combining those two activities would have caused a severe case of dry heaves. But there I was; taking bites of lukewarm Chicken Divan while carefully positioning the motionless creepy-crawlies onto the glue before it hardened. (Even though it's Ruby Jane's science project, this tasty little job fell to lucky ol' me since it involved hot glue. Yippee.)
I haven't changed completely, however, as I found out when picking up a particularly nasty critter and swearing that it moved just a wee bit-- and then flinging it away with a girlish squeal. Upon closer inspection I discovered it truly was dead, and so I gingerly plucked the little guy up and plopped him onto a dab of glue. There, try and move now, sucker!
I then finished my lunch, surrounded by dead bugs.
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