J Boy found a grasshopper today in the vegie garden.
The smear over the grasshoppers lodgings is yoghurt. I caught J Boy trying to push it through the hole to feed his new friend, who had been our dinner guest. J Boy was most attentive to the grasshopper, watching its every move. He has started a poo count, and we are now getting regular updates whenever the grasshopper has a bowel movement. Great dinner conversation.
He is wanting to take it to kindy – next Thursday – a mere 4 days and 5 nights away. I am not sure what the survival rate is for enormous captured grasshoppers, but I should be very surprised if it gets the honour of attending kindy. Should he survive for that long, I doubt even still that longevity will belong to the creature.
The grasshopper has been named “Hip Hop”. It was The Accountant’s suggestion, after J Boy dismissed his orignal suggestion, “Hoppy”. The Accountant had far better suggestions then the J Boy, who wanted to name it Buster. I thought the car might be upset to share the same name as the insect. Then J Boy suggested, “Yummy, yummy, foodie”, I vetoed that name to, for the pscychogical well being of the grasshopper. I also took offense to the grasshopper being labelled Mummy. All types of other ridiculous names were being thrown about until The Accountant stepped in.
Welcome to the household, Grasshopper. Good luck.