Attack of the Moth

It was night of BBQ, football, family and fun.  After stuffing our faces, we settled in to watch the game.  My mom worked on her Christmas blanket, taking breaks to shout at the refs, while my dad tinkered with his netbook, grumbling about the offense.

Even the kitchen work seemed more enjoyable.  That is, until I attempted to throw some icky packaging away and found that the garbage bag was too full.  No biggie. 

Next up: a new garbage bag.

Spinning (I like twirling) across the kitchen and into the mudroom, I flipped on the light, started tugging out a garbage bag, and...

FLAP! FLAP! FLAP! Zoooooooooooom! SLAM!

Freaking Mothra started attacking me in my neck, head, ear, and back.

It must have been a sight: me, doing my best imitation of a demented screech owl, with arms flailing, and hair whipping about in waves, while hunching my body over like Quasimodo, all in an attempt to avoid the BIGGEST BUG EVER.

No joke, this thing was like the size of a freaking bird. In fact, at first, I almost thought it was a bird. I tried to usher it out the door, but it kept attacking me. Aren’t they supposed to hibernate or something? Have you ever had a moth stick itself in your ear?  So not fun.

I finally escaped the mud room, turned off the light, and closed the door.  I then did what any single gal in her right mind would do...

Go back in armed with hairspray, shoe, and paper towel? Nah. We save that gear for very special wasps and bees.

Call for boyfriend? Well, since I don't have one of those, no.

Call for Dad? Ding, ding, ding, ding! Yep! Heck, he was there, watching the game, and just messing around with his netbook; he could take a minute to save his daughter from a monster.


I'm not sure how he got rid of it, but I can tell you he made no noise (very unlike my spastic dance) and it took literally two seconds.

Me: "You already got it?"

Dad: "Yeah, no problem."

Me: "Did it attack you?"

Dad: "Sure did. Landed right here on my neck."

Me, shuddering: "Didn't you, I don't know, freak out?"

Dad, smirking: "No.  It's a moth."

Okay, that didn't make me feel too stupid or anything. 

Me: "THAT was not a moth.  That was like Mothra's long lost baby or something."

Dad, laughing: "I've seen 'em bigger."

I couldn't reply.  Bigger?!  As in, what, Daddy Mothra?  King size Mothra? Super size Mothra?

Really. Don’t. Like. Bugs.

On the plus side:

*Cowboys won BIG against the impressive Bills. Hurray!

*Dale Jr. had a blah day, but it seemed all the Hendrick cars struggled. One race left and only 3 points separate Carl Edwards and Tony Stewart for the Championship. Should be a good one!

*I’m thinking there won’t be an NBA season…sucks…but it means the Mavericks remain the champions for another season (looking on the bright side can be so much fun sometimes).

Happy Monday!