Lemon-pip submarine

Perhaps I'm going completely mad, but tonight I've been watching with fascination as a lemon pip in my white wine spritzer travels up and down in the glass: down to pick up its cargo of bubbles from the bottom of the glass; up, to transport them to the top, where they disembark onto a slice of lemon, thereby forcing their erstwhile submarine to sink to the bottom again, to pick up another cargo of impatient little bubbles.

That pip may be an inanimate object, but for some reason I feel sorry for it in its relentless task.

To see the world - or is it parenthood? - in a lemon pip.