My husband came home last night and picked up a book off of our bathroom floor. There was nothing under it. This is a very bad thing.
There was supposed to be a scorpion under it.
That’s right, they’re back. For all of you who read this blog only for scorpion stories and were wishing I’d stop boring on and on about all that Catholic stuff, your prayers have been answered. My thoughts are now 100% focused on the fact that there is a rogue scorpion somewhere in my house even as I type this who probably has a very bad attitude about the fact that I threw a book on him yesterday.
In retrospect, WHAT WAS I THINKING? When am I going to learn that these things don’t die? (For those of you who missed my coverage of the previous two learning opportunities I had on this matter, those posts are here and here). I’m surprised I couldn’t actually hear the scorpion snickering at my hubris as I walked out of the room, confident that Ross and Westerfield’s Corporate Finance dropped from an altitude of about five feet was enough to ensure a human-over-arachnid victory.
A couple things to note that make this situation extra concerning are that a) I found the thing crawling around a few feet away from the baby, and b) I think it came out of one of my bath towels that were stacked in a basket on the floor. My husband suggested that I try to remember to shake out the bath towels before I use them to dry off. Good thing he reminded me, because I might have forgotten all about it! No, I jest. In fact, I have completely recategorized them in my mind from “towels” to “scorpion nests”, as in “my hair is wet, would you pass me a scorpion nest?” or “I need to do a load of scorpion nests when I wash the sheets this week.” I shall never see them as mere towels again.
One interesting thing that’s come of all this is that I’ve become rather defensive of roaches. A few people have tried making me feel better by noting that scorpions eat roaches. To which I ask (in a more or less shrill tone, depending on when the last scorpion sighting was): “What did a roach ever do to anyone? They don’t have pincers, they don’t sting, the don’t fluoresce under blacklight, they’re not notorious of hiding out in shoes and beds! They’re FINE!” I think there was a time when I was actually terrified of roaches, but those days are long gone.
Anyway, it looks like the exterminator will be coming back sometime soon. Maybe this is God’s way of giving me a chance to express my views in a more compelling manner than muttering “uh-huh.”
And if I don’t post for a while, it means that we never did find the scorpion, and I’m in the process of packing up our belongings and moving to Siberia, where I hear they do not have scorpions.
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