And so it begins.
Some of you may remember from blog posts of yore that Colorado Springs develops a bit of a moth problem during the spring and summer months.
I had my first sighting Wednesday morning. The moment I flipped my bathroom light on, I was was dive-bombed by a buzzing brown mass of hatred.
I was upset to say the least. It was six in the morning for crying out loud! I cursed aloud, slammed the door shut, and balled up some toilet paper in preparation for the ensuing cage match, screaming at my attacker all the while.
"I don't have the ENERGY to KILL you right now, but I HAVE to because I haven't washed my HAIR! in FIVE! DAYS!"
The last few words were punctuated by the echoing thuds of my fist on the wall as I missed my target again and again. When I finally pinned him, I reveled in the warmth of his broken body under my fingers. A sick sense of pleasure washed over me as I wiped the remaining guts off the clean, white paint. Little did I know at the time how dearly I would pay for my transgressions.
My punishment came in the night, and it came with a vengeance.
We keep our trashcan out in the garage in an effort to prevent the dogs from knocking it over and dragging its contents all over the house. As I opened the door to throw out an empty coke can, I was swarmed by a billion winged demons.* They were everywhere; ricocheting off my arms, burrowing into my hair - it was like that horrible Nicholas Cage movie (don't worry, I'll be more specific) where he has all those bees on his face. Evidently they had heard about what I did to their friend, and they. were. pissed.
I screamed. Not a gasp or a yelp; we're talking a for real, no holds barred, someone-is-murdering-me-in-a-bloody-fashion scream.
Luckily Sarah was there to bring me back to my senses, else I might have indulged my instinct to move out and leave them the house, since they had obviously won it fair and square. She slapped me across the face, handed me a flip flop and told me to sack up and start swatting.
It was a long, grueling battle. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of (as well as a couple things I'm really proud of, like the impressive jumpshot that brought down their second lieutenant). We made it out the other side with relatively few casualties, although there was one particularly close call involving a deadly game of cat and mouse behind our mason jar chandelier. Those little bastards played dirty, but we triumphed in the end.
So to all you moths out there who are thinking you might wanna try your luck, bring it. I will destroy you like I destroyed your spotted brethren: WITH PLEASURE.
*Dramatization. There were probably six or seven in all. Also, don't think I didn't notice you judging me for not recycling.