The Parking Lot

An ant came up on the blistering heat of the parking lot, staring in bewilderment at the strange little wooly caterpillar lying out in the sun.

“What,” he asked, “are you doing?”

“Shh! Can’t you see I’m hiding?”

“Well, yes I can…a little too well.”

“Erm…you can’t see me.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No. You can’t.”

The ant sighed. “Shall we continue this pointless bickering? I can see you. End of story.”

The caterpillar exhaled in exasperation and curled his fuzzy frame. “No, you can’t! I’m blending in with this parking line!”

”...You’re a little too small, you know that?”

“Oh, bother. Poo and fecal deposits!”

“Don’t you talk about my mother that way!”

The caterpillar chuckled. “Oh, that was quite funny.”

“Funny? Oh, I’ve used that one several times and no one thought it was funny.”

“Well…I did. Let’s forget about all this, shall we?”


And they walked off the hot tarmac together.

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