Catching 'Hoppers

Friends came over for a playdate and lunch last week. One of the boys in the family is about Morgan's age and loves to catch grasshoppers. He does it with his bare hands, grabbing the grasshoppers like a pro, wrinkling his nose at the black ooze dripping onto his fingers from the mouth of the insect. Morgan caught "grasshopper fever" and has spent most of her free time out in the pasture among the weeds and grass, patiently trying to catch 'hoppers with a plastic cup and lid. Sometimes she is successful, other times not.

We have an insect box given to her by her Papa, who used said box to transport his queen bee from where she was purchased to his hive out back. Not needing the container, it was given to Morgan last summer and sat collecting leaves and cobwebs until several days ago. Now, it sits as the center of attention on the back porch, up on the table away from Spencer's prying fingers. It contains three or four grasshoppers, a small cup of water, and an assortment of leaves and grass. She remembers to feed them twice daily with fresh leaves, gives us all updates each time she visits them, and sits during lunch next to Mallorie in front of the box, monitoring their movement while munching a sandwich. I offered her a carrot for her 'hoppers last night for dinner and thought she was going to hit the roof with excitement.

She has named them - Hopper, Jumper, Hoptrina, and Sopper.

And she gleefully informed me yesterday morning that she "finally has a pet of her own." Life is complete.