Burtdad and I have a funny dynamic, sometimes. We like to accuse each other of highly-exaggerated crimes and then have ridiculous arguments about them. This usually culminates in one of us calling the other a shit, a moment of silence, and then a game of dominoes. I'm not sure what it's about, but it's age-old and it's not going anywhere. With this in mind, I'd like to bring up the time that Burtdad introduced a colony of ants to my living arrangements, and I'd like to do it in a highly accusatory tone.
It was a hot Spanish summer. I was living on a mountain. All around, insects, birds, exotic plants and insects. Did I mention that there were insects? Good. Burtdad had come to see me, figuring he might be missing something, on account of my refusal to leave the area. It had been a lovely day. We'd spent some time in a beautiful park, played a bit of music, chatted about life, enjoyed the local talent, and generally chilled out.
I'd made a van stew for dinner and we'd both enjoyed it to the max (Burtdad hadn't complained about the chickpeas more than fifteen times, so it was considered a success). I wrapped up the kitchen as BD jammed on his guitar, and we decided to go down to the city, to see what Barcelona had to offer us for the evening. Up until now, all was good. But little did I know, Burtdad had evil intentions, and his plan was about to be set into action.
Behind my back (in a very literal, as well as figurative, sense), Burtdad callously and maliciously tossed his after-dinner choco wrapped into Burt, just as I was closing the back door. There was a dedicated trash bag, but he had obviously calculated his assault such that it was important to bypass this facility and leave the wrapper on the floor. A cold move, unfitting of a father...
We took the Burtdadmobile down to the city, found a space and set about enjoying the gothic quarter - one of my favorite areas of Barcelona. BD seemed to enjoy the place as much as I did, and we soon found ourselves at a little cafe. Being gentlemen of leisure, we treated ourselves to a cool beer and some snacks, chatted about this and that, and generally enjoyed the cooling evening air that brought relief from the balmy summer heat.
But all the while, a dastardly plan was unfolding, atop the mountain...
Read the rest on burtman.net (with photos):
https://burtman.net/SFTR3_ants_in_my_pants