It is with much confidence I say that God was in a particularly humorous mood the day he created my husband. While there are so many things that I can relate to reinforce my claim, today I will focus on just one.
The man loves the outdoors. He revels in hiking and camping. He enjoys working in the garden. As much as I love flowers and gardens, I am not one for the actual planting part unless I have gloves on. The reason being that there are so many frighteningly strange things that live in dirt. Living creatures that never see the light of day tend to look like something straight out of a Stephen King story. Not to mention the worms and beetles and stuff. None of this gets Sean ruffled (now if he sees a bee that’s another thing altogether as he was attacked by some wasps while fetching his ball from their nest as a child). Correct me if I’m wrong, but there are usually bugs involved when hiking or camping as well.
This morning while my son and I were at breakfast a rather stricken looking Sean appeared in the dining room to announce that a house centipede had made a wrong turn somewhere and had ended up in our bathroom. I can’t help but start to giggle at this bit of info because I know what’s going to happen. In my husband’s world bugs become a totally different entity once they cross the threshold into our home. Outside he can touch them, kill them, or pretty much ignore them; inside they become an instrument of extreme fear and loathing. And shrieking. Lots of shrieking. The difference between my husband and me is that I pretty much dislike bugs anywhere I find them. However, I am usually able to maintain my cool when dealing with them.
So off we go, into the bathroom where the scary bug is. The poor thing is huddled in the shadow of the doorframe because house centipedes are like allergic to light or something. As soon as he sees it, Sean turns into a nervous wreck; he starts to squirm and ask in a whiny voice what should be done to get rid of this disgusting invader. And then comes the aforementioned shrieking because he feels bugs crawling on him. Now, in all fairness to the poor man house centipedes are exceedingly horrid: they have what are the equivalent of knees joints because their legs are so long.
The tricky thing with these insects is that they are fast. So one can’t blink when the time comes to duel to the death. (Luckily Sean has yet to be killed by one of these monsters, although a few have escaped from his clutches). Not able to think of anything else, I suggest that he knock it onto the floor and smack it with a shoe (while I stand there and offer moral support). I hand him the shoe which he slips onto his right foot for extra accuracy. With a folded up napkin he swats at the enemy, knocks it onto the floor, and proceeds to stomp on it while screaming some sort of karate-sounding syllables. At this I can’t help but loose my composure and start to chortle uncontrollably.
Ah, yes. It is something to see a tall, muscular, brave sort of man lose his nerve at the sight of a bug indoors. Bring on the gross and graphic zombie movies, but leave the insects outside please. In the end, I believe it is the shrieking, screaming, and karate moves that really finishes off those bugs. I suppose that’s why my knight wears that shining armor- to keep the ants out of his pants. God love him: I know I do.
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