So my husband just walked in after being gone for several hours, leaving me alone with our four year old and 9 month old who is teething and refusing to sleep without being wrapped around mommy (the baby, not the 4 year old), and when he finally gets home, this is the conversation that follows:
Me: "Thank God. Cameron won't go to bed until you go up and read him a story and he's come out of his room every five minutes for the last half hour asking if you were home yet. So get up there."
Drew: "Awesome! I can show him this cicada I just caught."
This is the point at which I noticed that he was, indeed, holding a cicada in his hands. I also notice that the cat is staring at him intently.
Me: "Oh Jesus. Please get that thing out of here before you lose your grip and it starts flying around the house making noise and bumping into things and Zeus starts chasing it and breaks everything nice that we own while trying to kill it. Because you know that's what is going to happen and he won't ever catch it because Zeus sucks at catching anything."
Me: [stares at him, wondering why he's laughing. I'm being completely serious. That cat can't walk across the couch without falling, tearing something, or drawing blood on someone]
Cameron, from upstairs: "Daddy? Is that you?"
Drew: "Yeah buddy! Come here, look what I found!"
Cameron: "WOAH! A CICADA!"
Drew: [grins at me in triumph]
Me: [glares back at him]
They did, at that point, take the cicada back outside to, "set him free to fly away." Apparently that didn't happen, and they walked back in discussing how it probably was just pretending to sleep (I maintain that it had a heart attack after being brought into a house where a not stealthy, extraordinarily un-ninja-like, 17-year-old cat was staring at it unnervingly. Never mind that the cat would have easily injured himself long before causing any kind of bodily harm to the cicada).
So I suppose the moral of the story is..........
I have no idea. You're welcome.