Yesterday that giant scorpion returned. And I do not mean my old boyfriend who was born in November. BAH.
A few weeks ago, Tallulah chased some enormous...creature under the corner cabinet, and it was dark in the dining room, so all I knew was some incredibly scary character the size of Sebastian Cabot was lurking under my corner cabinet. When I finally got up my courage to get a flashlight and look under there, it was gone.
Gone!
That was weeks ago, and I was kind of hoping it had packed its bags and left in a huff. I mean, it certainly wasn't getting any FOOD at my house. Have you met my cupboards?
My goal for this weekend is to clean everything, because I will be out of town for the next two weekends and besides, this house looks like The Munsters' house lately, so I started with laundry, and there in the laundry room?
THERE HE WAS. And he was not a scorpion, as I had feared. Nor was it Mr. French/Sebastian, which might have been nice, because maybe he'd have done my laundry for me and made me a martini and gotten me a date with a nice bachelorette in a '60s suit. It was some kind of...beetle-y/roachy thing.
Ack. Is what I am saying to you.
I don't think it was a cockroach, because it wasn't flat. But it had, you know, ANTLERS, and anyway I was frozen in terror. It was on the wall behind the washer and I realized I'd have to kill it with the broom. But once I got the broom I realized I was too afraid to do even that. I sprayed it with Windex and Resolve, which only seemed to piss him off, and probably gave him chemical superpowers.
I never said I was manly. I get my braveness from Edsel.
There are two men next door building a deck for Peg. She has been very excited about her deck, and is having a deck party as soon as it's done, and I am excited to be one of the first people to fall through. So even though it was starting to rain, I traipsed over there to get one of their butch selves to kill this bug. I didn't CARE if I looked insane.
But when I got there, they had just left. Who leaves at 6:00 on a holiday weekend when it's starting to rain? Slackers. Fortunately, Peg's 11-year-old grandson was there, so I roped him into bug murder.
He was all bravado in front of his mom and grandmother. "Yeah, I'll do it! No problem!" Then when we were walking back to my house, he was all, "How big is this bug?" I showed him, and he said, "I've seen bugs THIS BIG," holding his hand like a foot wide. "Where?" I asked, having no patience for children. "At the...museum," he said.
So we get into the bug zone, there, and he grabs my broom, and you have never seen more tepid poking at a bug in your life. "I don't want to behead him," says this kid, who has suddenly become a pacifist. The bug crawls behind the washer.
That was useful.
I send Peg's grandson packing and wait, terrified, for that dreadful thing to re-emerge, and I finally Swiffered it to death. It was the cleanest dead bug in the history of time.
Now I will never use my Swiffer or my broom again, because it touched the bug. And what if it travels in a gang? What if its loved ones come looking for it? I will just have to move if I see another one of those enormous bugs.
So that's my story. I have 900 dumb things to do today, like go to the post office, and oooo! I am going to an estate sale in my neighborhood, so that'll be fun. Tomorrow I will do comment of the week (it has been Jan for like a week and a half) and reschedule book club, which I totally missed. Do you wish you had an organized, Nazilike blogger as your hostess?
I suppose you'll be annoyed if I do not throw in a kitten picture, so let me go see what Anderson Cooper and Roger Sterling are up to:
Roger is already annoyed at having his blurry photo taken for this blog. And note the Edsel fur behind him. See what I mean about this house? And for the record, I swept that floor TWO DAYS AGO. But now I have to buy a new broom. I was not kidding.
Anderson Cooper is very athletic, as is Roger. They can get up on everything already. Which is, you know, not good. All they do is play play play. Roger is a JERK about the food and won't share. So currently Anderson is in there eating with the door closed while the Kitten Chow hoarder is out here with the dogs. Geez. What a jerk. There's enough of the Chow for everyone, Roger!
Okay, off to knock over old ladies at the estate sale. If I write you from a different house tomorrow, you'll know it was Here Come the Beetles at my house tonight.
you tri to eat? rodgur eet your tale.
