It’s true! A tuna has taken up residence under my front steps. What’s worse, there may be more than one!

Okay, by now you’re probably asking yourself what the hell I’m talking about. Let me tell you a story.

One fine evening when my eldest son was about a year old, my ex and I decided to go for a walk around the block, baby in carriage. It was spring, just like it is now, and the lilacs were blooming their fragrant heads off. The bumble bees were in heaven, and there were plenty of them. Their low pitched drones could be heard as they busily buzzed from blossom to blossom.

In the thick of it all, my ex decided that it might be the best idea for me to push the carriage. When I inquired why, he explained.

Now there are two things you need to know about my ex at this point. One, is that he is French. Quebecois. And two, that he is deathly afraid of bees.

His explanation for not wanting to push the carriage containing our child was as follows:

Because if I see a taon, I’m going to run.

Taon is the French word for horsefly, deer fly… but he meant bumble bee.

What I heard was thon, which is French for tuna.

Many minutes passed before I was able to get up off the ground from laughing so hard. When I could finally speak, with tears running down my face, I told him he could push the carriage because it didn’t matter – if I saw a tuna, I was going to run as well.

So there you have it. I have a tuna living under my steps. I won’t be telling my ex though – I won’t see him again until winter if I do.