Page 137 of Lovebug
My answer is instantaneous. “Hibiscus Harlequin bug. A shield-shaped jewel-toned insect. Gorgeous. Protects and shields her young.”
“Alright,” he applauds lightly, looking only mildly impressed. He gears up for his next one. “Okay… your father.”
“Paper wasp,” I say without hesitation. “They have a real knack for construction. They can be aggressive but usually won’t sting unless you disturb their nest. Oh, and they can recognize faces. How cool is that? ‘I never forget a face,’ my dad always says. ‘But with remembering names? I’m incompetence personified.’
“Wow, you’ve really given this some thought!” Wally marvels.
“Not really,” I shrug. “In most cases, the comparisons are just so clear.”
“I hate to bring him up, but I’m ashamed to admit I’m curious as hell,” Wally admits, then asks, “The ex-fiancé?”
“Hm,” I hesitate for just a moment on how to respond to this one. “A year or so ago, I would have said golden silk orb-weaver. No question. But now?” I consider and land on the perfect answer. “Cockroach. No offense to cockroaches, of course, but yeah. Cockroach.”
Wally looks eager to steer the conversation in a happier direction. “Okay, I’m going to fire a quick three-in-a-row at you,” he threatens. “You ready?”
“I was born ready, sir. But I’m telling you, you can’t stump me.”
“Cyndi!” he shouts.
“Long-tailed skipper. Loves to travel. Hates the cold.”
“Calliope!”
“Leaf cutter ant. Hardworking and insanely strong. Can carry fifty times her own body weight.” Wait. I should clarify that. “For the record, Calliope can’t physically carry that much weight, but metaphorically, heck yeah, she can. She’s a tiny, brilliant beast.”
“Louise!”
“Cecropia moth. Emits a scent so powerful, it attracts males from miles around.” I feel a need to quickly amend that comparison as well. “Not that Louise smells by any means. She’s just super desirable to the opposite sex.”
“Hmmmm.” He takes that opportunity to lean forward and nuzzle my neck. “I can think of someone else who is super desirable to the opposite sex.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I playfully push him. “Are you quizzing me or not?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” He gets back to business. “Ooh.” He gets an evil look in his eye. “Oh. I got one. I’ll definitely stump you with this one.”
“Try me,” I say with confidence.
“Naomi Thornton.”
“Easy,” I boast. “Tear-drinking moth. They literally feed on tears.”
“Yikes. You’re kidding me! That’s a real thing?”
“Of course it’s a real thing. If you haven’t noticed yet, Wallace, I don’t joke around when it comes to bugs.”
“Noted.” He puts his hands up in the air and gives a little laugh.
“Get this. Tear-drinking moths line up along the rim of an animal’s eye and drink its tears. And if there are no tears present? No worries! The tear-drinking moth will scrape her spine-tipped proboscis across the animal’s eyeball until there are.”
“Brutal!” Wally bellows. “But what’s a proboscis?”
“An elongated sucking mouthpart that’s typically tubular.”
“Mabel.” He leans closer to me again. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I might be. But using bug anatomy to flirt isn’t exactly sexy, is it?”
“I dunno. I think everything about you is sexy. Especially your anatomy. And your elongated sucking mouthpart.”
