I’m not a huge fan of bugs. I mean, I know they have their place in the world order and all, but they freak me out. Bees, wasps, cockroaches, flies and mosquitoes have the ability to make me act like a five year old kid. It’s not pretty.
Last night, as I was getting myself situated in my bed, I heard a brief buzzing in my ear. I swatted the side of my head and promptly flew out of my bed.
“Honey, there’s a mosquito in our room!” I yelled like this was a major problem, which in my head, IT WAS.
He comes in, doesn’t see it and crawls into bed.
“I absolutely cannot sleep in here if there is a mosquito,” I declare. I then proceed to tell him about the nightmares I had as a kid where all I can hear is a bug buzzing in my ear. Clearly I have issues.
We sit up, talk a bit, all the while with our eyes peeled for said mosquito. After a while I see something crawling in my husband’s hair…FOR REAL. I tell him not to move as we flick the bug onto his pillow. Then, I guess because he didn’t want to smoosh bug guts onto his pillow case, he sort of swatted near it. Murder attempt number one was a fail.
But it proved he was still in our room, ready to suck out our brains while we slept, so I was determined to kill it. We were not sleeping until it was G.O.N.E.. Within minutes, it landed on my husband’s shoulder and my hand smacked it. I MISSED. Dammit. Murder attempt number two = FAIL.
Then we saw it on the nightstand. Hubby swatted at it and…while we both could have sworn we got it, there was no body, blood smear or otherwise proof of death.
Another five to ten minutes went by and my husband was calling it a night.
“But he’s still IN HERE!!!”
He kissed me good night and rolled over to sleep.
I lay there thinking of that stupid bug and all the ways it planned to torment me while I tried to sleep. I finally took the sheet and covered my head, leaving only a hole for my mouth and nose to breathe. I quickly started sweating, but didn’t care.
Oh yes, I slept like that, you know, just in case.
Ridiculous. That’s me.