Iggy’s World

“What’s this show of yours about exactly?”

“It’s about insects.”

“Of course it is. What else would it be about?” My dad rolls his eyes.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Iggy, you never stop talking about bugs. I get it’s your thing but for the rest of us it’s --”

“Boring! I know.”

“And aren’t you just a little old for this kind of hobby, Iggy? I understood your interest in bugs when you were in fourth grade, but now that you’re fourteen.”

See what I have to put up with around here? I don’t get any support for my stuff. Nobody cares. Not even my dad.

“That’s not fair, Iggy. Of course I’m happy you’re doing something you love. It’s just--”

“So you’ll listen to my podcast? If you give me your phone, I can show you how to download it --”

“Iggy, can’t you see I’m busy? I’m directing right now. The cast is waiting for me.”

I can see that. The giant spider is tapping one foot. The huge grasshopper is using one of his fake legs to itch his back. And then there’s Dad, towering over me with his hands on his hips, giving me the stink eye. Again.