Posted by on Aug 19, 2013 | 2 comments

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Mama is a nutcake! It’s supposed to be ME who chases those white things with wings in the garden, but when mama sees one (or two, in this case), she goes bonkers, leaps out of her chair at a seemingly calm lunch for two on the sunny terrace and flails her arms, holding a butter knife (a lot of good that will do unless you’re Toshiro Mifune) and chases those white things out of her spigariello and tomatoes where she says they are laying eggs (ech!) that will turn into little worms that will eat her cabbage-y plant or turn into those ugly segmented tomato worms that scare the bejesus out of her when she first sees one, even after all these years.

The truth is—those worms don’t exist in this part of the world, but she says that once you’ve had the encounter with one, you’ll never get over it and so ANY white butterfly is a bad one, in her garden book of pests who are no-nos.

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(ARRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!)

Papa made this video of her going bananas, but I’m trying to get him to make one of me because I chase better, there’s no question, plus I don’t look like someone who need to be committed besides. Mama says they are f…, er…copulating, which is even worse because then there will be more and more butterflies laying more and more eggs and she’s likely to go right up the walls!

Good thing there is someone calm around here to keep things sane…

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