"Tell us the story, Mum," chant the girls, "of the bugs on the car."
"Yes, please!" adds Rachel.
"Really girls?" I ask.
"The story of the bugs on the car," Sophie reiterates.
"Alright," I say. "Once, we were driving to Bundaberg and it was night time, and dark, so we had the headlights on. Bugs come out at night, you know-"
"That means they are nocturnal," interrupts Sophie.
"Yes," I agree, "some bugs are nocturnal. And these bugs came out at night and saw our headlights. 'Ohh, lights!' think the bugs, and they fly over to see the light. But we were going very fast in our car, and as the bugs flew over to see the lights - squish! - they ran into our car and got squished. That is the story of the bugs on the car."
"Tell us the story again!" cry the girls.
I have no idea why our girls love this story so much, but it simply fascinates them. So I have written it here for you. And me. Because one day, I won't remember these little stories and I feel to lose them would be rather tragic indeed.
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