The Worstbug

18 Sep

Hello.

This post has nothing to do with adorable quilts, or fabric, or sewing. If that’s why you’re here, you may be disappointed. If, however, you ended up here by accident, maybe this will be the one post you enjoy. If you like the worst grossest things ever.

Worstbugs. Bugs I’m so insanely afraid of that I can’t even call them by name. (They aren’t spiders, I’m pretty okay with those. Plus, spiders are arachnids anyway,right?)

This morning, I was going about my regular routine and chatting to my cat about breakfast, when I reached up to get a sweet little flowered bowl out of my cabinet. Something flew at me and whizzed through my hair. I thought it was a moth (a very…sturdy…sounding moth), so I shook out my hair and went about my business.

I had my breakfast and was on the threshold of re-entering the kitchen when something buzzed across my vision. Simultaneously, George the Cat raced across the kitchen, somehow both frantic and focused. I followed her line of sight to find the largest, ugliest Worstbug I’d seen in a long time. And it was perched without grace or shame on my coffee cup.

To recap: this monstrosity has been on my beloved coffee cup (the very same one that holds my precious coffee) and in my hair (presumably–I think I could prove it in court, if necessary.)

So I proceeded to do what any normal Worstbug-fearing person would do and ran away yelling made-up profanities, shutting my cat in the kitchen with it for good measure. So she could hunt it. And then I could put that Bug’s tiny head on a tiny pike and stake it in front of my house to scare all of the other ones away.

After laying curled up on the sofa for a couple of minutes with a pillow over my head, I decided I was still too exposed. I peeked out from my feeble fortress, certain that it could smell my fear, and made a run for my bedroom.

Now we were separated by three rooms and two doors. Better odds. I cowered under the covers for a few minutes, trying to figure out if there was a way I could get dressed and leave for work without having access to my clothes, keys,  or coffee, all of which were in or on the other side of the kitchen.

I finally acknowledged that it was impossible and that it was past time for me to get ready for work. I steeled myself and scoured the room for weapons, but found none. All I could do was armor myself in a nice, thick quilt  and put on a knitted cap to keep him from getting in my hair… again. I still didn’t feel secure though, so I put on Garrett’s fedora (over the knitted cap) and took a deep breath as I exited the room.

Apparently, I had been holding a bag of cat litter when It had startled me, because there was one sitting in the middle of the living room where I’d dropped it in fear as I ran away.

I continued walking toward the kitchen and pulled the quilt around me as I gently and slowly opened the kitchen door. I peeked in to see George the Cat staring intently in my direction. She looked a bit possessed, and I was afraid that the Bug might be a demon who had taken over her body, but I was eventually able to attribute that thought to all of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer I’ve been watching lately. I pushed the door open slightly more and then made a dash through the kitchen.

Safe.

I got ready for work and came back to glance out at the kitchen. I felt safe enough to stick my head out a bit further and saw George the Cat sitting with her back against our dryer, which was odd. Again, I followed her gaze to see the awful thing close-up and it was huge and shiny and huge.

When It slipped into the laundry basket, I gave up and handed over my house and all of my belongings as a peace offering. All I asked in return was that it stay out of my hair forever.

grumpy

This is the most appropriate photo I have to go with this post. Unless you want a picture of a gross bug.

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2 Responses to “The Worstbug”

  1. Sarah Steele September 18, 2013 at 7:51 pm #

    I think we definitely want a picture of the gross bug. :)

    -Sarah

    • Meleah September 18, 2013 at 8:59 pm #

      Nope. Sarah lies. I’m going to assume that Worstbug is one that, too, hate beyond reason.

      I feel your pain. I once gave over my room to one for 6 months. Ask mom about the high school semester when I slept in the living room. #anxietyprobs

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