Her scream could be heard all the way in the kitchen. My daughter came running and yelling about a tarantula in the bathtub. I had never seen a real life tarantula in the wild…or my bathroom before. I grabbed my camera. This is what I saw.
NOT a tarantula but a scorpion. Since it was so close to the drain I decided to turn on scalding hot water and try to drown and flush it down the drain.
Due to the design of the drain, the scorpion didn’t actually go down. I grabbed the tweezers and decided to pick the little bugger up by the tail. When I did, it came crawling up out of the drain with its tail raised and it pinchers poised ready to fight me.
Behind me, I heard a buzzing noise. I turn around and there was a freaking yellow jacket in the sink. I ran out the bathroom. My heart was racing. I scooped up the bug spray from under the sink and proceeded to drown the beast with the poisonous stream.
This isn’t the first time we’ve gotten icky creepy crawlers around our property. Apparently, Oklahoma should be referred to as Buglahoma (thanks, cuz).
Once while washing clothes, I went to transfer clothes from the washer to dryer and I stumbled upon this crazy zebra looking beetle. My reaction was just to let out a scream and my hero Super Deuce came running. I managed to snap a picture of it just as Deuce turned it into a scene from a horror movie.
You my boy, Deuce!
Another thing around here that amazes me is the size of the freaking grasshoppers.
They are enormous AND they fly and give me the heebie jeebies. The thing I hate most about them is their unpredictability. They jump. They fly. These things are usually done in my direction which makes for humorous entertainment for those around me as I scream like a little bitch and flail my arms as I run. The only other insects that can make me act this way and give me the willies are:
a.) Cockroaches…the flying kind (also called palmetto bugs, water bugs, etc…depending on where you live). I prefer to call them fucking gross!!
b.) Junebugs…those flying brown beetles that hang out on your screen door at night usually when your porch light is on. These always seem to fly at my face.
A few times I’ve seen praying mantises. It was interesting seeing the looks on my children’s faces as I explained their violent mating rituals. My son declared that he was glad he wasn’t a mantis.
Every so often in the Sooner state *gag* amongst the mile long snakes and the insects large enough to run away with a newborn, you will see something as cute and cuddly as this little guy.
Rabbits roam our neighborhood, eating your plants and leaving little pellets of evidence all over the place. This little bunny was hanging out on my porch. It was small enough to fit into the palm of my hand. You can tell by looking at the bricks how tiny it really was. The problem? The poor thing was spotted by my daughter. She brought it spinach to tried to coax it into her clutches. When that didn't work, she just went balls to the wall and reached out and grabbed the poor little bastard. It proceeded to thrash and scream! Yes, scream!
I had never heard a rabbit scream before. I had heard they could but had never had the pleasure. It managed to get away and it ran towards the neighbors (just like his mommy taught him...lol) and wedged itself between the city garbage can and the fence.
The dogs are going ballistic at this point, both mine and the neighbors. My daughter wanted me to capture this poor little “suburban” woodland creature. I tried to explain that I don't want to move the garbage can for two reasons:
1.) I don't want the furball to get caught in the wheel.
2.) I don't want it to freak out and run under the fence to certain death. Either way, I would feel bad because who really wants to see the demise of a cute “wittle bunny wabbit”.
These explanations, while making sense to me, were not enough to convince a 7-year old Elmyra Duff wannabe (remember Tiny Toons?) that the sheer existence of this tiny rodent relative was more important than her need to hug it and kiss it and love it forever. This minor disagreement brought on tears and pouting and the declaration that I am, yet again, the worst mom in the whole wide world only second to child murderers such as Andrea Yates and Susan Smith.
Needless to say, I ended up having to send my baby girl to her room along with her tears, tantrum, and attitude where she fell asleep soundly dreaming of places where mommies let their little girls catch bunnies and Skittles really do come from rainbows. Hopefully, when she finally woke up Bugs Bunny’s love child will have moved on to greener pastures.
