Day 3

Miss Ive's successful frolic with her new bear friend, put her in the mood for seriously elusive sport. And this time she sought out a real challenge. Her plan: it should be obvious at this point that she does not have one. Apparently, she thinks saving the zoo is code for groping its entire contents. There may be something Freudian in that. She will get back to you. Shortly.

Her destination: the butterfly house. Because, after all, what is more fickle than a butterfly? Miss Ive half believes she is second cousin to entire butterfly kingdom.

And, just as she suspected, in this very house, Miss Ive was not wholly and affectionately welcomed as she had been by the primates and the bear. The butterflies paid her no attention. And Miss Ive could not have that. Ever. So she decided to watch the butterflies very closely and see exactly what it was that was taking up all their time and much sought after attention. The culprit:

And this.


So can you guess what clever Miss Ive did to turn the tables? Yes, she went to her loot. And she found this.


Miss Ive reasoned, something she generally hates to do, that if butterlies like plants, and they love flowers, then the logical corollary (yes she said c-o-r-o-l-l-a-r-y) was that they would go ape sh%@ for nectar. So she slathered an unfairly-advantaged amount of Peach body butter all over her clever little body. And within 14 seconds, she looked like this.

Point, set, match: Miss Ive. BRING IT BUTTERFLIES!

She's not even lying. She really did this. She would not recommend doing it yourselves.

Stay tuned for more Jane Jones Chronicles, as they turn a bit to the darker side, tomorrow. Bring hot beverage, and a snack, and a blanket, and four loaves of bread with which Miss Ive can wipe an entire tub of Peach body butter from her slippery body.