The Humbug's Bad Beginnings
The Humbug wasn't always so bitter. Though he would never admit to being one of the happy little children who chased butterflies through fields and such, he was.
His name was Humphrey, and he was the top of his class – perky little larva, who always had a smile on his slimy little face. He a total a suck up, and remains so today, but the teachers certainly didn't mind at the time. But one can only imagine the horrors that come with being a teacher's pet.
He had been kicked in the sand too many times to count, and his glasses often need repair. Bullies stole his sole shoe – being a larva, he didn't need more than one – and even passed his homework off as their own.
By the time his college years came around, he looked forward to skipping town as soon as possible. Even through the years, he had managed to keep hold of some of his great aspirations. He wanted more than anything to be a doctor. He wanted to help people.
But his mother simply would not have it.
He could still hear his mother's words echoing in his head. "You're of noble blood! You can't get your hands dirty like that. No, no, you'll study literature, and politics and history."
"And what will I do with that?" he had asked.
"Nothing," she replied.
Nothing.
.
"How could one simply do nothing with their life, after so much hard work? How could she just expect me to sit back, and do nothing?"
A tear rolled down the bug's cheek, but he quickly wiped it away.
"Well, you could have at least tried to follow your dreams, right? You didn't need her help," Milo said, looking rather sad now.
"Oh, well, why bother?" the Humbug replied, waving his hand passively at the matter, stretching out in the backseat of the small car. "We are born, we study, we work, we die. We have so little time to really just do nothing. I mean, if we cut out something, think of how much time of nothing we get in turn. Nothing is good."
"Too much of nothing is not," said Milo sadly, looking back at his friend. "You'll wake up one day and realize your life has gone, and then you won't be too happy. That is, if it hasn't happened already."
The bug shrugged and turned over.
The soft tick! tick! tick! grew louder in the tell-tale sign that the dog in the back was leaning in toward the passenger and their driver. "Ignoring the boy won't make him any less right, you know," Tock growled, scratching his left ear with one of his big paws.
"Bah! Humbug," he mumbled in reply, closing his eyes. And soon, he was asleep.