Bugs and I usually get along fairly well. We have an understanding: if I find them in my house, I calmly help them find their way out. If they find me in their house, they help me find my way out. As far as I can tell, it works.
I let the dog out this evening and was mildly perturbed when she proceeded to run around the yard happy as a clam and completely ignoring my rather reasonable requests for her to come inside. As I approached a bush she appeared utterly fascinated with, I noticed that the bush was rustling. Our bushes are usually pretty good about not rustling (they get a bit disorderly in the wind, but that's a separate matter). Thus, I instinctively knew something was amiss.
Alas, it's the height of the Brood X periodical cicada mania. The bushes, trees, and ground were teeming with 'em! My normal peaceful relations with insects was on the verge of collapse, so I retreated inside for a healthy dose of the heebie-jeebies. I'm sure those I tortured seventeen years ago with cicada husks (namely, my sister) feel I'm getting what was coming to me. For hours, I felt like they were crawling all over me. And I just know I'm going to hear that rustling as I try to go to sleep tonight.
Hopefully we'll be able to come to an understanding before they come again in another seventeen years.
Comments
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You chased me with cicada husks? Ew!! What a mean little brother you were! Indeed, this is your due if truly you tortured me so when we were younger. (Clearly, I don't remember this at all, so you're off the hook).
P.S. I'm not coming to visit until they're gone. Skins and all.
P.P.S. In a related story, welcome back to the Snakehead. May the Potamac R.I.P.
::rustle, rustle, rustle:: ::grins::
Have you heard of the movie THE VILLAGE? (M.Night Shamaylan)The people stayed in there and the creatures stayed in the forest...all was well...and then the movie starts.... Sounds similar. DunDunDun.