SUNDAY BREAKFAST – MOTHS IN THE GRITS

Today we found moths in the grits. Until today I’d hardly remembered a packet of grits lurked in the back of a kitchen cupboard, and I still don’t recall what ancient and bizarre, Scarlett O’Hara, southern-fried culinary adventure occasioned their purchase. Up until the discovery, I’d only know that inexplicable squadrons of tiny moths had recently been flitting around the apartment in ever increasing numbers, and that Finn the cat was learning to slaughter them with great dexterity. I had been puzzled from whence the moths might have originated and, as their numbers increased, I fretted occasionally that they might eat my clothes. The process of kitchen archeology by which the venerable packet of grits came to be opened is too tediously complex to recount here. Sufice to say that it was, and a tiny, but highly-organized moth colony was discovered well on the way to self-determination and possible annexation. The box of grits was dispatched from the balcony with non-lethal Buddhist respect, but then set on by hungry Hollywood sparrows (who are much the same as Cockney sparrows except they have agents and better tans.) The Doc40 household now hopes the moth population will disperse, cat will come down from DEFCON 1, and equanimity will be restored.

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The secret word is Lepidoptera