I ought to preface this by noting that part of Richard’s current job is to search for places to market the marvelous new inventions created by the peons who work there. It should be fairly obvious what the most recent research topic was.

Him: There are surprisingly few companies in the world that cater to the bee improvement market.

Me: Is that so?

Me: You know, there was a thing on NPR about training bees to sniff out explosives.

Him: I heard a mention about that last night on the way home. What was that about?

Me: uh. Training…bees…to sniff…out…explosives.

Him: Ha ha. No, how? How do you train a bee? If you swat 'em with a rolled up newspaper, they get pissed and sting you, and then they die. Inefficient, that.

Me: You put sugar water on a plate with a little explosive stuff and the bees learn that the explosives smell is associated with sweet goo they like, so then you can put out explosive residue in a field and they'll go hover over it because they've learned to associate it with the sugar. And you are just weird.

Him: Interesting. But the poor bees. All they want is sugar, and instead they get blown up by renegade landmines. And I am not.

Me: They don't get blown up, silly.

Me: They *do*, however, get little jackets with Bomb Squad printed on them in gold lettering. And pocket watches with their names inscribed inside.

Him: Wow. Lucky bees.

Me: Yeah. But pity the poor seamstress who has to sew all those itty-bitty jackets with all those extra arms, and with wing slits. Plus the tailor who has to *fit* the bees.

Him: Do they get goggles?

Me: Ooh! Yes. Of course. But don’t they have eyes like flies, with a million or two lenses?

Him: That would be a nasty job - bee ophthalmologist.

Me: Why?

Him: "Okay, is that better or worse. Okay, now is that better or worse. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Now that. Okay, on to the next lens."

Him: Repeat for eight months

Him: Go to the next bee.

And my coworkers wonder why it is I occasionally break out in fits of giggles in my cube…