It started out just like any other morning. I reluctantly rolled out of bed, tripped over both dogs on the way to the bathroom, flipped on the light and then squinted into the mirror to assess whether or not I needed to wash my hair. It appeared to be somewhere between curls and dreadlocks, which is cool for the weekends but doesn't quite cut it for work. Since showering is my all-time least favorite activity, I decided to stall a little by brushing my teeth first.
That's when I saw it. (This is the part where those of you with stomachs on the weaker side might wanna bail out.)
Yucky. Brown. Seemingly lifeless, and just chillin' in my sink. Heck, maybe it was already dead. I guess I'll never know, because I didn't waste any time investigating before grabbing a handful of toilet paper and forcibly relocating it to the trash can. Unfortunately, I guess I don't know my own strength, because during my celebratory forward fist pump for catching it, I accidentally squeezed too hard and felt the moth burst like a grape between my fingers.
So is this what I've become? A heartless killing machine? I didn't even stop to consider that this moth might have had a wife and family! In fact, I'm quite certain he did, because I'm pretty sure I saw him playing hide and seek with his kids on my back porch last night! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!? WILL THE MADNESS NEVER END?!?
I guess there's only one thing I can do now to make things right, and that thing is to hold a memorial service for the poor little guy. I took the liberty of writing up his eulogy in advance for those of you who are out of state and therefore will be unable to make it, although I know your hearts will all be with us.
Dear, sweet, innocent moth,*Sing it with me! Orkin MANNNN!
You were one of God's creatures. However deeply your winged brethren may have wounded me in the past, I had no right to do what I did. I'll be placing the sleeve of a sweater in your tiny moth casket before we put you in the ground. It's cashmere; I think you would have really liked it. I'll do my best to look out for your family...unless they catch me off guard in the shower, in which case I'm afraid they're in grave (was that insensitive?) danger of facing a similarly sticky (too soon?) end.
Word to your mother (GET IT?!?)