I Heart Indies

Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Queen Ant Speaks

So I'm sitting here laying eggs all day.  You cannot possibly imagine how boring this is.  All my daughters are running around taking care of me, making sure I'm okay, "Are you comfortable, mamma?"  "Do you have enough to eat?"  "Here, eat some of this random crap I foraged."  Do they ever bring me any entertainment?  Like maybe a video from Redbox or even a magazine?  No, they do not.

As soon as I lay an egg, one of my daughters takes it away.  They raise them for me, which is at least one thing I don't have to do, but the thing is, I never even get to know my own children.  The other day I was asking, "Whatever happened to 10352, 10353, and 10354?  I never see them around any more?"  "Oh, my goodness," someone said, "Don't you know?  They got stepped on!"  It was pretty awkward, but the fact is I didn't feel as bad as I should have.  The truth is, I can barely remember what they looked like.  I was always getting 10352 and 10353 mixed up.  You'd think a mother would be able to remember her own children, but it's not easy when you have so many.

 At least they get to see the sun shine.  I've never seen the sun shine; I don't even know what it looks like.  12355 says it's like being underground except there's no roof over you, and instead of dark, it's bright.  None of this makes any sense to me.

Where's the father, you ask?  Not here, that's for sure.  Not that I blame him.  He's dead.  We mated one time, one time, and fifteen thousand eggs later, I'm still sitting here.  If I'd known how this was going to work out, I'd have just said, "Let's be friends."  Not that I don't love my daughters, but Jesus.

The worst part is, I can't even decently complain.  My daughters are all like, "Oh, God, Monday again!  Back to work schlepping out foraging for random crap and hoping we don't get stepped on.  You're lucky, mamma.  All you have to do is eat and lay eggs."  I have to at least act grateful, "Thank you for this random crap you foraged for me.  No, it's delicious, really.  No, I couldn't.  I'm stuffed.  Okay, one more bite."  They all envy me.  They think my life is so sweet, and wish they could be me.  If they knew the truth, that my life is just as sucky as theirs, I think it'd break their hearts.  I guess their life is sucky, too, but I still wouldn't mind trading places for a while.  I think if my life sucked equally much, but in a different way, that would still feel like an improvement.

I am so tired of these damn eggs.

No comments:

Post a Comment