Cicada playdate

Tea and cicadas

“NO electronics on this playdate,” I yelled, “so do NOT even ask.”  

And even though we don’t say “playdate” anymore (it’s now a “hangout”), and even though one of the two kids coming over would be with us from breakfast till dinner,
no one asked.

As if this wasn’t enough of a rare parenting triumph, here’s what else happened:
a board game,
a card game,
water balloons,
none of which had anything to do with me.

Then the screen door slammed and I thought my luck was over because I felt a question coming, and it was going to be one of those innocent, give-an-inch questions like the one that derailed the previous day’s playdate / hangout into a marathon screenfest.

But the question was not “Can we have your phone to make a slo-mo video?” Nor was it, “Can we have your phone to make a meme?” “Can we have your phone to take a picture,” or “Can we have your phone to print lyrics from a song?”

Instead, the question was the most welcome, most beautiful thing I’d heard in ages:

“Can we have a knife to dissect a dead cicada?”

“YES,” I answered with the breath I’d been holding, “Oh, YES!”

And then I ran to them with,
“So, here’s an X-Acto blade and
tweezers and
a hand-lens and
some straight pins and
also a printout of cicada anatomy showing from what bit of their bodies they sing.”

Best playdate / hangout, ever.

–  –  –

Today’s photo is evidence the dissectors forgot to clean up after themselves, but this suits me fine. I can have my morning tea while inspecting their leftovers.

(No cicadas were harmed in the making of this playdate / hangout.)