The jump was miscalculated and I missed. I skittered to an abrupt halt, trapped in the thick fabric of the woman’s hem. Lifting my face a tiny minuscule, I squinted out and over the tattered fabric to see another woman nearby drag herself out of her chair.

This distraught lady dabbed repeatedly at her skirt, chattering incessantly about a bug being on her person. Now I was distraught. A bug? I hate bugs.

Her face scrunched into cruel delight when she saw me, a picture of outrage. Her skin flecked with red and white blotches set a mottled frame around her mouth; now emitting an ear-shattering cacophony of sound that scalded my own delicate eardrums.

Understanding my life was in peril, I launched myself from the pant leg of my host onto the shoulder of the screaming human, rubbed my legs together and played her my most harmonious cricket song. Just before her big, beefy hand came down on herself in an effort to squash me, I high-jumped from her shaking body and high-tailed it back into the grass where I belonged.