ANYONE who knows me at all, also knows that I do not like to be surprised. It doesn't take much to scare me and I pity the person who would do it intentionally. And yet, somehow, Mother Nature has NOT gotten the message.
Tonight, after grabbing the dog's leash and announcing it was time to hit the yard, I walk into the living room to find a toad investigating what plush carpeting feels like on its grody little underbelly. Some watch dogs I have; they let a poisonous perp hop right by their keen senses and infiltrate my safe and (what I thought to be) secure environs.
I grab a broom and dustpan, uncertain how the extrication will play out. Up from her comfortable spot on the sofa, my dog is curious and edges closer to see what all the fuss is about. I shoo the dog with the bristly end of the broom, scaring her so badly, she bumps into the vacuum cleaner on her mad dash to get away, which then turns noisily on as it falls to the floor. So much for stealthily catching my prey unawares.
One swipe at the toad and it bee-lines for the open door and the safety of darkness. How it made it all the way up the steps to the porch and into the house is still a bit of a mystery. Its not as if I have a lot of toad-food lying about in a Hansel and Gretel-like path of enticement. Oh, wait. Yes I do...
Because last week Mother Nature had another surprise for me. Hundreds of tiny fly maggots all over my kitchen floor which I discovered when I walked in there with bare feet. "Did you vomit?" my daughter asked when I relayed the adventure to her.
I didn't, but I'll be wearing shoes in the house for awhile, just in case.
It isn't as though I'm a bad housekeeper. Maggots happen here in Hawai`i. Especially since most people don't have disposals, keep their kitchen garbage under their sinks, and temperatures hover around the low 80's. I have to have no shame about my indoor bug experiences. My mother shared my heroics with her bridge club ladies that afternoon and as they are all laughing and being grossed out, they are probably also thinking, "what kind of a sty does your daughter live in??".
Okay, my heart rate has returned to normal and it is time for bed. We'll see what tomorrow's living nightmare has in store for me.