M is for Mongoose
While trying to think of an ‘m’ word to write about, one word kept straining its sinewy neck above the faceless of crowd of moons, mourning, milk, mutt, moms, maps, mumps. It was mongoose.
Mongoose. Mongoose. Mongoose. My brain kept screeching. “Brain,” I said, “there is no way I’m going to write a post about an animal that I would be hard pressed to pick out in goddamn police line-up.
Having never seen a mongoose in any form be it picture or real life, somebody could present to me a picture of any kind of animal or fish or bird with the word mongoose scrolled across it in illiterate looking writing and I would believe it. I might even later squeeze it into conversation with friends over drinks. “Did you know the mongoose is not a goose with hearing impairment at all, but instead a weird fish that lives in deepest, creepiest part of the ocean.” They would all nod in interested agreement.
I’m always open to learning something new, so I did a quick Google search for mongoose. What appeared in the search results was somewhat surprising to me. Why, it’s nothing more than a weasel,” I said to my brain.
“Hey, you don’t get to know things that I don’t. I’m the boss.”
That’s what you think.
“Yo, I’m captain of this ship; the commander of this troop; the mean girl of this click; the top dog in this pack; the sexy lead singer of this band. And don’t you bloody forget it.