Dancing with a Dinosaur

When I moved to Texas for the second time (about ten years ago), I came from Arizona. Yes, it was hot as all get out, but one of the things that Arizona had going for it was that there were very few flying insects and creepy crawlies because there is just very little moisture in the air. Sure, we ran into the occasional scorpion, but these were the little pink variety, easily controlled by the exterminator.

Long before I got here, I kept hearing, "The bugs are everywhere!" I thought folks were just exaggerating. Well, lawd, Lawd, lawd, everything is bigger in Texas. We have been in our house a long time and I am still encountering creepy crawlies. Spiders, little wormy looking things, and yes, scorpions.

I like to think I'm kinda tough, but the sight of an insect REALLY freaks me out. When you give birth, you learn to be strong about a lot of things, but I had to check myself a few years ago when my then two year old thought the name for a spider was a Mo---- F---- because that is what she heard me yell whenever I saw one.

I thought I was over all that and had learned to exterminate bugs with dignity, but last night, I swore I was in a Stephen King novel.

My little one comes running form her room, screaming. "MommEEEEEE! There is something int he house." She was hiding her face and trembling. I could hear the fear in her voice and I got scared. This was my tough kid, the one who brings bugs inside to live with her in cups and discovers all sorts of uses for wild berries including painting decorator-designed walls.
I was immediately terrified. Had someone got into the house with out me hearing?

I tiptoed in the direction she'd come from. She was to upset to tell me what the "somethign" was.

And then I saw it.

It was a BIG-BEHIND SCORPION. Everything is certainly bigger in Texas.
That sucker stopped in its tracks and laughed at me.
My breath caught in my throat. It had crossed the all-powerful exterminator line and it didn't even look like it had choked.
I screamed to my eldest. Bring me a shoe! I need a shoe! Not one of mine, your father's!"
(I ain't crazy).
And then the sweet child handed me a flip-flop. A straw flip-flop, not even a heavy duty multi-soled Taryn Rose flop flip either.

The scorpion stood there, all curled up, mocking me.
"Not this, honey. A real shoe."

She jumped up and returned with My Michael Kors wedges. I sighed. They would have to do, even if In Style said they were the shoes of the summer season.

I wielded my shoe and approached gingerly.
That sucker didn't even so much as back up or blink one of its many eyes.
I raised it in the air and swatted hard. (The soles were cork). I just caught it on the end and the scorpion did an exorcist move. It spun around on its exoskeleton, and I'm sure it was screaming and cursing me in bug language.

My kids were yelling, "Get it mom. Get it!"

I held back on any expletives that I wanted to utter and I hit it again. This time it was a bullseye.
The scorpion made a splat that made me feel like I had just crushed a mouse, not a bug. Scorpion guts exploded on the hallway floor.

But who was going to pick the dang thing up?

Raid anyone?


Anonymous said…
Nina, you certainly are a storyteller. One day, you'll have to face flying cockroaches.
Anonymous said…
Mofo is my favorite word of all time! Nice choice.If I ever get on the Actor's Studio I'm telling James Lipton let's get right to my favorite curse word. Back to the subject.. since you passed the large scorpion test now you must visit Florida to to see how you fare against the palmetto bug -aka- the swimming cucaracha LOL!

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