Thursday, August 18, 2011

Bug Karma & Rabid Children

I don't usually consider myself the squeamish type. I like the outdoors. Camping. Hiking. Getting dirty. I mean, I don't even flinch at spiders, really. I grab a shoe and get my murder on.

But, you guys. Texas is a whole 'nother game, and it's BREAKING ME. You already know we have a bug guy, right? We had red ants taking over our backyard and some sort of circus ant super hybrid trying to take over the entire back side of the house. They came and put chemicals down, and me and the children took a swig of the stuff for good measure.When the guy left, he joked about how the bugs were probably packing up shop and moving to our neighbors'. I laughed and didn't think much about it.

Then a few weeks later, my husband was doing some yard work with the guy next door. I was chatting with his wife, and the topic of bugs came up. Because I'M OBSESSED, clearly. It went something like this.

Me: I don't understand why there are so many dragonflies [Dragonflies dive-bombing my head in swarms.]

Her: [Sparkling in the sunlight, impervious to the attacks.] You'll get used to them!

Me: I guess I should be thankful we haven't seen any of the scarier stuff. [Dripping with sweat, clothing clinging to my body in unflattering patterns.]

Her: [Cool, hair fluttering in a non-existent breeze.] Yeah, it's not too bad...


Her: [Calm and still as a mirror lake.] Oh! We found a scorpion in our house the other day!


Her: Really!

Me: [Scanning the yard for sinister nature elements. Sweat stinging my eyes and blurring my vision.]

Her: We've never seen one until you guys sprayed your house, though. [Smirk.]

Me: [Flashback to bug-guy's final words.] Oh...shit...

She was really just teasing me, but Jesus. Scorpions? My squeamishness has endangered the very welfare of my new, fabulous neighbors. THEY HAVE CHILDREN, you guys! LOTS OF CHILDREN. I apologized and tried not to have nightmares about insects and rodents. I was not successful.

Then, just last night, I walked over to their house to return a piece of mail that had been accidentally delivered to us. Her and the kids came out and ran around for a few minutes while we chatted in her front yard. Then, mid-sentence, I was all, "What the...?" and looked down to investigate a burning sensation. My foot? And shoe? Covered in red ants. COVERED. And they were biting the shit out of me.

I feel like I probably deserved it.


PS: We met Plus One's teacher, and it...well, it went. I did my best not to behave like the neurotic, obsessive, controlling mother I am (though, at one point, I found myself shaking the woman's hand while clutching a large tub of GermX wipes. And I have NO IDEA how they go there). Plus One, on the other hand, hid behind me and clung to my leg. After a reasonable amount of time, the teacher approached to try to coax him out.

At which point my son growled at her like a rabid animal.

Between the two of us, we made a solid first impression. Should be a spectacular year!