The Squirrel And I

The setting is the local park. The time is roughly 5:30 in the evening, and the date is yesterday.

I am cutting through what parts of the park are open on my way to the library. While passing under a tree, I hear a loud cracking sound and feel something hitting my shoulders.

For a moment, I am panicking, wondering what hit me and worrying about damage. When I look at the ground, things get odd, as what I find (a twig) seems far too small to be what hit. At this point, I am told by someone behind me to look to my left.

As I do so, I see a squirrel, running away from me and towards another tree. It becomes all too obvious what it was that hit me.

No damage came to me, and the squirrel seems to have come out of it alright, but one question is left:

How is it that the one time a squirrel falls from a tree when I’m nearby, it manages to land on me?

That sounds pretty nuts.

I’m going out on a limb here, but that’s pretty fur-fetched. How often do you have delusions of small rodents landing on you?

Perhaps I was cynical and hasty.

How many peanuts were you carrying?

None, though heaven knows I’ve been mistaken for a nut before.

I thought you were going to say the squirrel was dropping things on you from the tree. My husband seems to attract things like that.

Some days you feel like a nut.

You should be more careful. Squirrels hate us and seek our destruction. Cite.

You were probably inches from death.