This morning, while I was on a conference call for work, I looked out the kitchen window and saw a squirrel go scuttling by with what looked like a giant leaf in its mouth.
“Huh. Early spring. Ambitious critter.”
A few seconds later, another squirrel darted by, sporting a floppy beard of some sort.
A minute later, a third squirrel came tearing by with what appeared to be a giant hat.
“What the hell?!”
Our neighbors have kept three biodegradable lawn bags filled with leaves in their backyard all winter. No big deal; they aren’t in our line of sight unless we go back in the woods, and we also care very little about what our neighbors do to their lawn.
All winter long, those three bags have sat quietly, weathering the weather and slowly turning to mush. Until the squirrel population decided to go to town on them, ripping them to shreds and making clothes and forcing me to put a conference call on mute while I laughed out loud at the bizarre fashion show taking place in the garden.
What about this has to do with diabetes? Nothing. Unless I decide to start a clothing line for PWD made entirely out of rotting gardening bags.