During a short segment of my childhood, my parents nicknamed me Bug. Recently, I was wondering why. I came up with three theory's:
#1. I was as cute as a bug. I was! My favorite picture of myself - age about three - features me wearing plaid bermuda shorts and standing in the water on some Seattle shore, holding up some curious beach creature I'd found. I had a quizzical look on my face, like "what is this thing?". I'm still trying to find out.
#2. I was always looking at "bugs".
#3. I was really bugging my parents. I did.
Well, I recently asked my dear old mommy why they used to call me that. I was sort of afraid that I'd get nailed on #3. because now, in 2015, I'm really bugging 'em by trying to help them both, now with dementia, to still be in their home ( I am currently the Pest That Won't Leave Their Home ), so I was mildly relieved to hear from my Ma, " Oh, you were always just looking at bugs!".
It did warm the cockles of my 'ol naturalist heart when, just the other day, down at the beach at Fort Worden, I passed a Mom, and her little girl - cute as a ladybug- laughing about the girl watching bugs. "You're always watching Bugs!" Mom was saying. "Yeah, I am!" her daughter cheerfully replied.
While no longer real cute, I'm still looking at bugs, and may possibly still be bugging people - like some Tweeters who wish I would actually post about a bird sometimes. But we all wouldn't be here without bugs. Like they say, "it takes a World of Bugs to raise a Wren!".
Jeff Gibson
reporting fromPort Townsend Wa