The Problem with Sexual Reproduction

Our orange trees are having a veritable orgy right now.

And it's a mess.

These blossoms, the leftover advertisements for bees all over the city (the little tramps), are falling everywhere.  I told Caleb after school he needs to shovel the walks. 

Not to mention the overpowering fragrance they give off night and day, shamelessly bragging about how they're getting some and you're not.

David thinks this post is inappropriate.

I told him it was just biology and reminded him about the parts of a flower, which he vaguely remembered from 9th grade biology.  I laughed my head off when he called the "stamens" the "staminas."  (Hysterical.)  He said, "I think you're trying to be funny but I don't get it."

I said, "Isn't it enough just to know I'm hilarious?"

He said no.

It is very difficult to be a biologist with a quick wit.  No one gets the jokes.

(And p.s. David would like me to point out that I am getting some.  And it is good.  How's that for inappropriate?)