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So, I think I’ve mentioned a few times that I’m not a big fan of bugs. Marin however, thinks bugs are fun. Recently she was playing in the yard and yelled at me to come look.
Marin- “Mommy! Come look what I found!”
Me- “What is it?”
Marin- “It’s a bug! Come look!”
Me, not nearly as thrilled- “Ok, I’m coming.”
Marin- “Look! Look!”
Me, shocked and disgusted- “Oh my God! You have a cicada!”
Marin- “I know. It’s a great bug!”
I tried to be cool about the whole thing since she actually likes bugs but cicadas are scary. I immediately flashed back to the time years ago that my cat caught one and was trying to bring it to me. It was screaming in his mouth and clearly the cat thought he was contributing to the family with the bug present. I had no choice to run as the cat chased me with a bug.
Katie was playing on the trampoline yesterday. It was pretty uneventful until she came back inside all upset.
Me- “Katie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Katie, shaking her head and clearly still shaken- “I was lying down on the trampoline and I thought there was a leaf under my hand. I started crunching in up but it felt funny and it wasn’t a leaf! It was a cicada! Yuck!”
Then I laughed and she rubbed her cicada hand on me. She spent the rest of the evening touching people and saying cicada hands. Marin spent the rest of the evening screaming and running.
Out of the blue, less than an hour after the bug incident, Claire let out a blood-curdling, horror-movie-style scream. She ran to me, still screaming.
Me- “My God, Claire! What happened?”
Claire- “I was picking up a shirt on the floor and I felt something on my hand and it was a CRICKET! It was climbing up right here!”
I swear, I really wanted not to laugh.
Showing posts with label bugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bugs. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A little while ago I stopped to put some gas in the car. When I got back in I thought I saw something fly past out of the corner of my eye. Always the caution one, I quickly opened all the windows. Big mistake. As soon as I had all four windows down I saw that it was a gigantic hornet on the OUTSIDE trying to get in.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Babies and Bugs
Katie, yelling- “Mommy! Marin ate a little piece of gum with an ant on it!”
N- “It’s ok. It’s protein. It’s good for babies.”
Katie- “Marin, want another one?”
N- “Katie!”
Claire turned eight a few days ago and Marin is now two. I think that means that I should try to stop calling her ‘the baby’. She is talking more and more every day. She tries to sing the birthday song but it sounds a lot like “bird day to you” but beyond that becomes unrecognizable.
Marin is still thrilled with the potty. Just a few days ago I had to fish both a Pull-Up and an entire roll of toilet paper out of the ‘big potty’. I had kind of forgotten how wild two year old’s could be.
I was planning a longer post but a new alert came in from Claire on the ants. Marin just ate some more. Not a first for her.
I just overheard Claire talking to Marin and referring to her as "my little anteater".
N- “It’s ok. It’s protein. It’s good for babies.”
Katie- “Marin, want another one?”
N- “Katie!”
Claire turned eight a few days ago and Marin is now two. I think that means that I should try to stop calling her ‘the baby’. She is talking more and more every day. She tries to sing the birthday song but it sounds a lot like “bird day to you” but beyond that becomes unrecognizable.
Marin is still thrilled with the potty. Just a few days ago I had to fish both a Pull-Up and an entire roll of toilet paper out of the ‘big potty’. I had kind of forgotten how wild two year old’s could be.
I was planning a longer post but a new alert came in from Claire on the ants. Marin just ate some more. Not a first for her.
I just overheard Claire talking to Marin and referring to her as "my little anteater".
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Proud Parenting Moments, Pt. One
The onslaught of crickets continues. This morning I watched a cricket slowly hop across the living room floor. The baby saw it as well, and began following behind, toddling as the cricket made it’s way to the floor vent.
It briefly flashed through my mind that maybe I should stop her. If she had managed to catch it, it would have undoubtedly gone straight into her mouth. I thought that the odds were pretty much in favor of the cricket since Marin isn't super precise in her stalking games. Therefore I did nothing because I really didn't feel like walking the seven feet or so that it would have required.
In retrospect, I think I was really lucky the cricket made it to the safety of the vent. After all, I would have been the one that would have had to dig a bug out of that baby's mouth.
I mean, in theory.
It briefly flashed through my mind that maybe I should stop her. If she had managed to catch it, it would have undoubtedly gone straight into her mouth. I thought that the odds were pretty much in favor of the cricket since Marin isn't super precise in her stalking games. Therefore I did nothing because I really didn't feel like walking the seven feet or so that it would have required.
In retrospect, I think I was really lucky the cricket made it to the safety of the vent. After all, I would have been the one that would have had to dig a bug out of that baby's mouth.
I mean, in theory.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tube Socks and Grasshoppers
Katie’s recent encounter with the cricket reminded me that now is the time of year that the crickets begin sneaking into the house on a regular basis. Every time I pick up a towel to throw in the laundry, I must do so with caution. If there is one thing I dislike even more than bugs that would be being startled by bugs. I am officially on high alert.
Just to be clear, I am not a cricket hater. I am perfectly fine with crickets, just not in the house. Crickets are thought to bring good luck and are commonly kept as pets in cages in China. I just wonder if maybe the Chinese prefer knowing the cricket is not going to jump in their hair the next time they start a load of laundry. That could explain the cages, if you ask me.
My fear of jumping insects began during childhood. It was actually grasshoppers that inspired the most fear. Come to think of it, the fact that my grandma would warn that “they spit tobacco juice” probably didn’t help. Now we have bugs that can jump and spit. Great. Not a good combination in my book and pretty much the stuff nightmares are made of.
I can remember riding my bike on summer days and being alarmed by grasshoppers hurtling through the air at me. I was quite convinced that I was actually being targeted by these freaks of nature, that for some reason they really wanted to jump on me. And spit.
I grew up in the seventies which everyone who grew up in that time will recall was a decade of high fashion. When the weather was cool, we would ride our banana seat bikes in our bell-bottoms. That presented a whole other set of problems. The laws of physics will not be denied, when ridiculous amounts of fabric get caught in bike spokes, said bike will come to a complete stop, rather abruptly. Which of course led to disastrous consequences on more than one occasion. I can still remember desperately trying to hang on to my tasseled handlebars as my body was launched over. Not to mention the fact that it never occurred to anyone that a helmet might be a good idea.
The first real scary encounter with a grasshopper happened on a summer day and I was outfitted appropriately. By that, what I really mean is some sort of hideous shorts combined with tube socks, that were high enough to just about cover the the ever present scabs on my knees. Most likely the gym shorts were left over from the previous school year. I wish I had an explanation for the tube socks but I just don’t.
I was riding along minding my own business when I went through a grassy area. I was with a group of friends and I recall the screams when grasshoppers started jumping and flying everywhere. Somehow we escaped without any casualties, or so I thought.
I looked down at my Sears circa 1972 tube sock and realized with horror that there was a great big mutant grasshopper looking back at me. I remember screaming like a crazy person and kicking my leg enthusiastically in the hopes of removing the creature before it started spitting, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
I managed to get it off my leg with my skillful maneuvers. In fact, I think that helped me to perfect my present-day Ninja kick. Also, even though the socks must have looked pretty stupid, I recognize that they did serve a purpose. They at least served as a barrier between that bug and my bare skin. BECAUSE I DID NOT WANT ANY PART OF THAT FREAKY BUG SPIT.
If the crickets get any worse in the house, I could always invest in some tube socks to wear with my Capri’s. Either that or they’re moving into the hamster cages.
Note to self: Find out if hamsters eat crickets.
Just to be clear, I am not a cricket hater. I am perfectly fine with crickets, just not in the house. Crickets are thought to bring good luck and are commonly kept as pets in cages in China. I just wonder if maybe the Chinese prefer knowing the cricket is not going to jump in their hair the next time they start a load of laundry. That could explain the cages, if you ask me.
My fear of jumping insects began during childhood. It was actually grasshoppers that inspired the most fear. Come to think of it, the fact that my grandma would warn that “they spit tobacco juice” probably didn’t help. Now we have bugs that can jump and spit. Great. Not a good combination in my book and pretty much the stuff nightmares are made of.
I can remember riding my bike on summer days and being alarmed by grasshoppers hurtling through the air at me. I was quite convinced that I was actually being targeted by these freaks of nature, that for some reason they really wanted to jump on me. And spit.
I grew up in the seventies which everyone who grew up in that time will recall was a decade of high fashion. When the weather was cool, we would ride our banana seat bikes in our bell-bottoms. That presented a whole other set of problems. The laws of physics will not be denied, when ridiculous amounts of fabric get caught in bike spokes, said bike will come to a complete stop, rather abruptly. Which of course led to disastrous consequences on more than one occasion. I can still remember desperately trying to hang on to my tasseled handlebars as my body was launched over. Not to mention the fact that it never occurred to anyone that a helmet might be a good idea.
The first real scary encounter with a grasshopper happened on a summer day and I was outfitted appropriately. By that, what I really mean is some sort of hideous shorts combined with tube socks, that were high enough to just about cover the the ever present scabs on my knees. Most likely the gym shorts were left over from the previous school year. I wish I had an explanation for the tube socks but I just don’t.
I was riding along minding my own business when I went through a grassy area. I was with a group of friends and I recall the screams when grasshoppers started jumping and flying everywhere. Somehow we escaped without any casualties, or so I thought.
I looked down at my Sears circa 1972 tube sock and realized with horror that there was a great big mutant grasshopper looking back at me. I remember screaming like a crazy person and kicking my leg enthusiastically in the hopes of removing the creature before it started spitting, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
I managed to get it off my leg with my skillful maneuvers. In fact, I think that helped me to perfect my present-day Ninja kick. Also, even though the socks must have looked pretty stupid, I recognize that they did serve a purpose. They at least served as a barrier between that bug and my bare skin. BECAUSE I DID NOT WANT ANY PART OF THAT FREAKY BUG SPIT.
If the crickets get any worse in the house, I could always invest in some tube socks to wear with my Capri’s. Either that or they’re moving into the hamster cages.
Note to self: Find out if hamsters eat crickets.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The Payback
This morning Katie followed me to the bathroom, requesting to get in the bathtub right after me. That translates to bathing as a spectator sport as she watches and waits for her turn.
For the most part Katie was pleasant and entertaining. When I was getting dressed, she was watching and commenting. Claire and Katie are both fascinated with bras for some reason, although neither one can pronounce the word properly. They both say “brawl”. This is usually followed by much giggling.
Katie- “You know there are brawls and underwear that match? That’s called a swimming soup.”
Katie’s commentary continued and then Claire decided to come in as well. I try to avoid leaving those two in the bathroom at the same time due to the huge potential for trouble. I told Claire that she had to leave but she returned as soon as I had walked away. I went back again, telling Claire that she had to leave Katie alone in the bath.
It was that very moment that Katie looked down at her bathwater and started shrieking.
Katie- “There’s a spider in the tub! Get it, get it OUT!”
Claire casually looks into the water, then announced, “It’s not a spider, it’s a cricket.”
Katie, not at all reassured- “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!”
She was clearly not comprehending the fact that there was NO way that I was fishing a bug out of the tub. I told her to get out of the bath, but that upset Katie’s sense of order and her idea of how the universe should work.
.
Katie- “BUT I DIDN’T USE THE BODY WASH YET!”
We were deadlocked for a while until Katie finally came to the conclusion that I wasn’t touching the bug no matter what. She frantically climbed out, looking back as if the cricket might be following her.
Katie then became calm in a Sybil-style personality change- “Do crickets like water?”
It turns out that Claire had handed Katie a towel right before the cricket landed in the bath. I don’t have any real proof but the whole thing seems a bit fishy to me.
For the most part Katie was pleasant and entertaining. When I was getting dressed, she was watching and commenting. Claire and Katie are both fascinated with bras for some reason, although neither one can pronounce the word properly. They both say “brawl”. This is usually followed by much giggling.
Katie- “You know there are brawls and underwear that match? That’s called a swimming soup.”
Katie’s commentary continued and then Claire decided to come in as well. I try to avoid leaving those two in the bathroom at the same time due to the huge potential for trouble. I told Claire that she had to leave but she returned as soon as I had walked away. I went back again, telling Claire that she had to leave Katie alone in the bath.
It was that very moment that Katie looked down at her bathwater and started shrieking.
Katie- “There’s a spider in the tub! Get it, get it OUT!”
Claire casually looks into the water, then announced, “It’s not a spider, it’s a cricket.”
Katie, not at all reassured- “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!”
She was clearly not comprehending the fact that there was NO way that I was fishing a bug out of the tub. I told her to get out of the bath, but that upset Katie’s sense of order and her idea of how the universe should work.
.
Katie- “BUT I DIDN’T USE THE BODY WASH YET!”
We were deadlocked for a while until Katie finally came to the conclusion that I wasn’t touching the bug no matter what. She frantically climbed out, looking back as if the cricket might be following her.
Katie then became calm in a Sybil-style personality change- “Do crickets like water?”
It turns out that Claire had handed Katie a towel right before the cricket landed in the bath. I don’t have any real proof but the whole thing seems a bit fishy to me.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Baby's First Bug
A little while ago, I was sitting at my desk when I heard shrieking coming from the living room. I told Claire to stop and she came running to me, semi-hysterical, still clutching the Ding-Dong she had been eating.
Claire- “There was a dead bug on my leg! And I thought it was chocolate and I ALMOST ATE IT!”
She continued crying and I couldn’t stop laughing. She made me go look at the bug then. I saw the offending creature, and that caused me to start laughing again. That made Claire cry even more and I still couldn’t stop. Katie came over to examine the bug, noticed it moving, and announced that it was actually alive. Which, believe it or not, didn't help matters any.
Katie “Claire, you didn’t almost eat a dead bug, it was MOVING!” Claire cries even louder at that point.
Me- “Claire, I am so sorry that you almost ate a bug.” Then I would laugh again and Claire would cry. Fortunately the baby woke up from her nap and I regained my self-control while retrieving her from her crib. I put Marin on the floor to play and a couple of minutes later there was more screaming. It was Claire again, followed by the baby’s cries.
Claire- “Marin just ate the bug! And she’s crying because it didn’t taste good!”
Claire- “There was a dead bug on my leg! And I thought it was chocolate and I ALMOST ATE IT!”
She continued crying and I couldn’t stop laughing. She made me go look at the bug then. I saw the offending creature, and that caused me to start laughing again. That made Claire cry even more and I still couldn’t stop. Katie came over to examine the bug, noticed it moving, and announced that it was actually alive. Which, believe it or not, didn't help matters any.
Katie “Claire, you didn’t almost eat a dead bug, it was MOVING!” Claire cries even louder at that point.
Me- “Claire, I am so sorry that you almost ate a bug.” Then I would laugh again and Claire would cry. Fortunately the baby woke up from her nap and I regained my self-control while retrieving her from her crib. I put Marin on the floor to play and a couple of minutes later there was more screaming. It was Claire again, followed by the baby’s cries.
Claire- “Marin just ate the bug! And she’s crying because it didn’t taste good!”
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Bug Battle
I am getting along with the spiders now. We are all observing our unspoken agreement to just ignore each other and it is working out well so far. For example, a couple of nights ago, I walked into the bathroom in the middle of the night and was startled by a gigantic Wolf spider on the wall. He promptly scurried off thereby keeping his end of the bargain. I didn’t kill him therefore keeping my end of the deal as well. See? No problem.
I have been having more problems with bugs now, crickets in particular. I have noticed that they have been making their way into the house lately. I hear their chirping from various locations in the house. They sometimes manage to go upstairs and I find them in the bathroom. I would guess that explains the size of that Wolf spider too.
They seem to like it if there are clothes on the floor. The kids always leave their towels there and I have learned to pick them up very carefully. As a rule, I am not terribly freaked out by crickets. I just don’t like it when they are hiding. If I am taking a bath and notice a cricket on the floor, I usually just casually wonder how high they can jump because I really don’t care for the idea of it hopping into the tub with me.
I think the day just had a bad start, bug wise. It started out with a trip to the bathroom around 4 in the morning. I was mostly asleep but noticed a bug along the woodwork in the hallway. It wasn’t a huge bug but it wasn’t small either. I tentatively decided that this mid-sized bug must be a roach, the most dreaded and feared of bugs. It ran for a couple of feet then paused. I remembered that hairspray will work to kill bugs, since I can not stand to step on them even with shoes. The hairspray method has only failed me once and to be fair, I have to admit that I just thought I was spraying the bug with hairspray, when in reality, I was spraying leave-in conditioner. It didn’t kill the bug but it sure was shiny.
I digress, back to the bug in the hallway. I took that opportunity to grab a can of hairspray out of the bathroom, lamenting the fact that the only hairspray I had was the really expensive salon stuff. This was more of a job for cheap stuff, like AquaNet. I began spraying the bug, following along as it ran into the girls' room. It slowed down to a crawl due to the bug stopping power of hairspray. Since the bug was no longer much of a threat, I took the time to get my glasses and a flashlight. I thought that I had better look to see if it really was a roach. If roaches move in then I would need a good exterminator or a U-Haul truck.
I shined the light on the offending creature only to discover that is was actually a cricket. One of his big hind legs was missing. Evidently they scurry more like a roach if they lose one of their big back legs. Or if I’m not wearing my glasses. Bottom line is that I killed a handicapped cricket due to some insect version of racial profiling.
I felt a little bad because crickets don't really hurt anything and I wouldn't kill one normally. They are normally eligible for the relocation program. The one that involves a teenage boy that I harass until he finally gives in and catches the bug and moves it outside to feed the Wolf spiders lurking by the back door.
Maybe the crickets got together and decided that I need to be punished. Or maybe it's just coincidence.
I was doing some laundry earlier today and as I was pouring the laundry detergent, a large cricket jumped at me from inside the washer. I was surprised enough that I ended up jumping and throwing the liquid detergent, which then hit me right in the face.
An hour later it was time to start another load. The laundry room can be dangerous territory but this time I knew to be on look out for crickets. I had a few things on the floor and was sorting and shaking things out. I saw a cricket on a part of a sheet and began shaking it rather enthusiastically in an attempt to dislodge the bug. I could no longer see the cricket and was thinking that the coast was clear when I realized that was so not the case.
I was horrified to discover that the cricket was perched right on my hand. I started screaming and shaking my hand in an attempt to disengage his sticky legs. Frankly, it's a miracle that it didn't end up in my hair after the day I'd had.
See the thing with crickets?
WE HAVE NO DEAL!
I have been having more problems with bugs now, crickets in particular. I have noticed that they have been making their way into the house lately. I hear their chirping from various locations in the house. They sometimes manage to go upstairs and I find them in the bathroom. I would guess that explains the size of that Wolf spider too.
They seem to like it if there are clothes on the floor. The kids always leave their towels there and I have learned to pick them up very carefully. As a rule, I am not terribly freaked out by crickets. I just don’t like it when they are hiding. If I am taking a bath and notice a cricket on the floor, I usually just casually wonder how high they can jump because I really don’t care for the idea of it hopping into the tub with me.
I think the day just had a bad start, bug wise. It started out with a trip to the bathroom around 4 in the morning. I was mostly asleep but noticed a bug along the woodwork in the hallway. It wasn’t a huge bug but it wasn’t small either. I tentatively decided that this mid-sized bug must be a roach, the most dreaded and feared of bugs. It ran for a couple of feet then paused. I remembered that hairspray will work to kill bugs, since I can not stand to step on them even with shoes. The hairspray method has only failed me once and to be fair, I have to admit that I just thought I was spraying the bug with hairspray, when in reality, I was spraying leave-in conditioner. It didn’t kill the bug but it sure was shiny.
I digress, back to the bug in the hallway. I took that opportunity to grab a can of hairspray out of the bathroom, lamenting the fact that the only hairspray I had was the really expensive salon stuff. This was more of a job for cheap stuff, like AquaNet. I began spraying the bug, following along as it ran into the girls' room. It slowed down to a crawl due to the bug stopping power of hairspray. Since the bug was no longer much of a threat, I took the time to get my glasses and a flashlight. I thought that I had better look to see if it really was a roach. If roaches move in then I would need a good exterminator or a U-Haul truck.
I shined the light on the offending creature only to discover that is was actually a cricket. One of his big hind legs was missing. Evidently they scurry more like a roach if they lose one of their big back legs. Or if I’m not wearing my glasses. Bottom line is that I killed a handicapped cricket due to some insect version of racial profiling.
I felt a little bad because crickets don't really hurt anything and I wouldn't kill one normally. They are normally eligible for the relocation program. The one that involves a teenage boy that I harass until he finally gives in and catches the bug and moves it outside to feed the Wolf spiders lurking by the back door.
Maybe the crickets got together and decided that I need to be punished. Or maybe it's just coincidence.
I was doing some laundry earlier today and as I was pouring the laundry detergent, a large cricket jumped at me from inside the washer. I was surprised enough that I ended up jumping and throwing the liquid detergent, which then hit me right in the face.
An hour later it was time to start another load. The laundry room can be dangerous territory but this time I knew to be on look out for crickets. I had a few things on the floor and was sorting and shaking things out. I saw a cricket on a part of a sheet and began shaking it rather enthusiastically in an attempt to dislodge the bug. I could no longer see the cricket and was thinking that the coast was clear when I realized that was so not the case.
I was horrified to discover that the cricket was perched right on my hand. I started screaming and shaking my hand in an attempt to disengage his sticky legs. Frankly, it's a miracle that it didn't end up in my hair after the day I'd had.
See the thing with crickets?
WE HAVE NO DEAL!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Spider and Tics (Yes, I Mean Tics not Ticks)
The spiders continue to take over the yard. A few days after I posted about walking face-first into the spider web, it happened again. The event was identical up to and including the hysterical flailing.
You would think that it would be safe to open the back door and walk a few steps without running into a web, wouldn’t you? It’s not like I was digging through boxes in the attic where spiders have time to set up camp. This is a well-traveled pathway after all.
After clearing off the remnants of web, I decided that it was time to hunt down the offender. I turned on the outside light and saw part of the web with a big Wolf spider that must have already started the process of rebuilding. I knocked it down with a broom determined to actually kill the little bastard once and for all. I couldn’t find a body but thought maybe I got him. I think you know where I am going with this.
I didn’t get him and it happened again. I then decided that the only rational course of action is to assume that there is always the possibility of a spider web in front of my face. Now when walking from the house to the car at night, I must wave my arms in front of my face as if I am autistic. So now I am afraid of spiders and I have developed an unusual tic. Great.
Last night I walked out the back door using my newly discovered anti-spider autistic arm wave when I realized in horror that I had just put my hand into the Wolf spider’s web. Before I could stop myself I was doing some sort of weird Ninja kick to get it off of me. I like to think it was pretty graceful, despite my lack of formal Ninja training. On some level I must have been thinking, “It’s better to touch a spider with your shoe! Use the shoe!” That’s the only thing I can think of to explain making such a spectacle of myself every time I leave the house, for God’s sake! If I start feeling compelled to utter random words like “metal” or “son-of-a-bitch” then I am definitely getting myself some medication. I can only hope that no one has seen this display.
Fortunately my next-door neighbor has a bad case of OCD and is too busy repeatedly touching every electrical appliance in the house to worry about what I am up to.
You would think that it would be safe to open the back door and walk a few steps without running into a web, wouldn’t you? It’s not like I was digging through boxes in the attic where spiders have time to set up camp. This is a well-traveled pathway after all.
After clearing off the remnants of web, I decided that it was time to hunt down the offender. I turned on the outside light and saw part of the web with a big Wolf spider that must have already started the process of rebuilding. I knocked it down with a broom determined to actually kill the little bastard once and for all. I couldn’t find a body but thought maybe I got him. I think you know where I am going with this.
I didn’t get him and it happened again. I then decided that the only rational course of action is to assume that there is always the possibility of a spider web in front of my face. Now when walking from the house to the car at night, I must wave my arms in front of my face as if I am autistic. So now I am afraid of spiders and I have developed an unusual tic. Great.
Last night I walked out the back door using my newly discovered anti-spider autistic arm wave when I realized in horror that I had just put my hand into the Wolf spider’s web. Before I could stop myself I was doing some sort of weird Ninja kick to get it off of me. I like to think it was pretty graceful, despite my lack of formal Ninja training. On some level I must have been thinking, “It’s better to touch a spider with your shoe! Use the shoe!” That’s the only thing I can think of to explain making such a spectacle of myself every time I leave the house, for God’s sake! If I start feeling compelled to utter random words like “metal” or “son-of-a-bitch” then I am definitely getting myself some medication. I can only hope that no one has seen this display.
Fortunately my next-door neighbor has a bad case of OCD and is too busy repeatedly touching every electrical appliance in the house to worry about what I am up to.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
God-Awful Encounters with Nature That I Could Do Without
Last night I was sitting on the front porch talking on the phone when I was startled by a noise off to the side. I thought at first that the source of the rustling sound was from a cat in the plants but soon realized that no cat I have ever seen has a long snout like the one I was confronted with. I was face to face with an enormous opossum. The opossum didn’t seem terribly thrilled to see me either and quickly took off running giving me a close-up view of it’s equally scary looking hind quarters. Although I was shocked by seeing this creature so close to my feet, I managed to restrain myself and not scream.
You would think that this would be enough for me and I would have had the good sense to stay in the house. Nope, not me. So a little while later I decided that I needed to go out to the car and retrieve something that I had left there earlier in the day. Something that could have easily waited until the next day when there was daylight. You know, like what a sensible person might do.
I was walking on the sidewalk that leads to the driveway when I walked face first into a gigantic spider web. This was not the normal little wispy web that I frequently see around the house. This was the industrial version of the spider web that I couldn’t just wipe off. Add in the fact that I also felt something crawling on my head. Then I must have decided that since I didn't feel it anymore it must be inside my shirt. I think maybe you could understand that I was this close to ripping off my clothes in the driveway. There was much frantic flailing as I attempted to rid myself of the web and the bug. Yet I still somehow managed to choke back the blood-curdling scream that I felt building up. As if on some level I knew I might soon have to be naked in my driveway. It turns out that when I am choking back a blood curdling scream the noise that does come out is a semi-hysterical grunt sounding like, “Eh! Eh! Eh!”
You would think that this would be enough for me and I would have had the good sense to stay in the house. Nope, not me. So a little while later I decided that I needed to go out to the car and retrieve something that I had left there earlier in the day. Something that could have easily waited until the next day when there was daylight. You know, like what a sensible person might do.
I was walking on the sidewalk that leads to the driveway when I walked face first into a gigantic spider web. This was not the normal little wispy web that I frequently see around the house. This was the industrial version of the spider web that I couldn’t just wipe off. Add in the fact that I also felt something crawling on my head. Then I must have decided that since I didn't feel it anymore it must be inside my shirt. I think maybe you could understand that I was this close to ripping off my clothes in the driveway. There was much frantic flailing as I attempted to rid myself of the web and the bug. Yet I still somehow managed to choke back the blood-curdling scream that I felt building up. As if on some level I knew I might soon have to be naked in my driveway. It turns out that when I am choking back a blood curdling scream the noise that does come out is a semi-hysterical grunt sounding like, “Eh! Eh! Eh!”
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