I’m going to tell you a joke. I’ve only got a couple of them that I reluctantly trot out in public.
The Hubby encourages me to. Not because I’m a particularly good teller of jokes, I think he just likes to see me being silly. Usually I’m such a serious young hedgehog, bustling around being rather prickly. So telling jokes is a good way to be a galah, chattering away and having a play. There is a reason for telling you this joke, which will become apparent very soon.
So, there’s this lion walking through the jungle, actually strutting more like. He sees a monkey and he roars, “I’m the King of the Jungle! I’m big and strong and brave. You’re just a silly, banana-eating primate.”
The monkey, scared out of his wits, or what little wits he has, nods his head and scuttles off.
The lion struts along some more and he sees a warthog. “I’m the King of the Jungle! I’m big and strong and brave. You’re just a pig with big teeth.”
The warthog isn’t all that happy with this turn of events but knows better than to take on a lion, so he snorts and trots off.
The lion, feeling very pleased with himself, continues to strut through the jungle and spies a mouse. “Ha!” he roars. “I’m the King of the Jungle! I’m big and strong and brave. You’re just a puny, scrawny, pathetic little rodent.”
The mouse looks up at the lion through squinty little eyes, wrinkles his little pink nose and
says in a very squeaky little voice. “I know, but I’ve been sick.”
And the reason for telling you that joke. “I’ve been sick!” Still am. I’m feeling very small, squinty and mouse-like. And when you’re sick the world feels like a roaring lion, big, strutting and noisy. It’s all a bit too much. Best to concede to the puny, pathetic mouse-like state and find a dark corner to hide in. Tomorrow I might be a lion but today I’m a scrawny squeaker. And as long as the dog doesn’t consider me a snack, I should survive.