Today was a day where good conquered evil. We were able to breath a sigh of relief, knowing that we are all now a little safer than we were before. And this is not just about the death of Osama bin Laden. I had my own little battle to protect my family from harm this morning.
It feels good to have this win under my belt. Like I'm in control, calm, confident.
But that's not how I looked earlier.
How can I explain my fear of squashing big, mean, ugly insects? Let me start with this: if you are standing anywhere in close proximity to me while I'm face to face with a bee, I will shove you in between me and it, to use you as a human shield.
Please, no Osama comparisons-- this is different, I swear. I like to think that I'm not a selfish person, but when it comes to that sort of thing, it's every man for himself as far as I'm concerned.
So this morning, I noticed Niall pointing at the ceiling, laughing and making the cooing noises he likes to make when he sees a cute animal-- like a bunny, dog or cat.
But it was not any of those things. It was some kind of genetically engineered monster that could have only been created by professionally breeding 6 yellow jackets, 2 bumble bees, 4 wasps and the ant from "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids."
This picture doesn't do him ANY justice. He curled up when I smacked the life out of him. You should have seen him in full length. Seriously, he was the biggest flying insect I've ever seen.
I freaked. I thought about grabbing Niall and the keys and just high-tailing it out of there for the day in nothing more than my pajamas. But I knew that I was the only one who could make this home safe again. If I left that stinker with the run of the house, who knows where he might hide out and wait for us to come back?
I had to man up.
My artillery included a broom--which almost broke a window. You can kinda see the crack here:
...a rolled up magazine-- which ended up being thrown because I was way too scared to get that close.
...and a spatula, which ultimately sealed Beelzebub's fate.
I locked Niall in the guest room and proceeded to go on a wild rampage. The entire house was in shambles. The couch cushions thrown all over the place, the couch itself pulled out and sprawled across the room. Niall's toys and shelves were whacked over by a swift swing of the broom.
I would scream bloody murder following each failed whack attempt that led to the mutant chasing me around the house, which made poor Niall cry for fear that I was being hurt by someone/something (presumably bigger than the size of my hand).
But at the end of the day, I got him. Now I can sleep easy. And in all seriousness, so can America. God bless our troops.
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