I’m an agent of kindness, I tell myself. When I see a Praying Mantis in my hallway I think this is a perfect chance for me show my kindness chops, to hold my compassion out in front of me, a blade of kindness. So I gently lift the little alien bug and carry it outside. That’s when it takes an enormous shit in my hand. I’m not squeamish, but this little critter drops a monster crap on me, and then sinks its spiked forelegs into my thumb. I’m spinning around howling like a loon when I see my neighbor, Mrs Norstrom, peering out her window at me, like she does. I try to smile, I’m an agent of kindness.