OK, so two things to know about me: one, I’m a control-freak who cries, and two, I’m terrified of moths…
Seriously. Stop laughing.
Not even joking, I do believe that moths are out to get me. When I was seven one landed on my hand that was holding the flashlight my cousin made me hold. Now you could be thinking, “Sure, flashlight, moth, of course it flew to you.” Yeah, alright, fine, but why then did it continue to drag its furry body all over my hand after I turned off the light and flailed around like a cartoon character??? Yeuch.
Then, when I was 21, and driving with the windows down (because, seriously, air conditioning bugs me), and a giant moth flew in the window and struck me in the face. Now, I thought it continued out the window, but no, it fell into the seatwell and started to climb up the inside of my pant leg – the leg that operates the accelerator and brakes, yeah, that leg. I almost crashed my car. And if you scoff at the word giant, let me tell you, no exaggeration, that thing was bigger than my two hands with the thumbs and first fingertips pressed together.
Also, we had a moth infestation a few years later and one flew into my iced cream sandwich as I was walking along, while my friend’s cone was totally left alone. Plus, there’s a myriad of other times where they will fly at my face – in my mouth – or into my hamper – or out of a cupboard when I open the door…
And that brings us to today. I was having a fight with my boyfriend while on my way to work. We were fighting because, well, that’s a much longer story and I’m so jumbled up right now that I can’t even begin at the very beginning… Suffice it to say I’m a control freak with crying issues, and he’s sensitive and takes things personally.
Anyway, he stops the car to get some kleenex because I’m practically having a full-out panic attack and what else can the man do but try to prevent my snozzing all over his new carseats – and because he’s nice, I know, shut up! So while he’s inside, I’m sitting in the passenger seat facing out the door I’ve just opened to try to let some early morning air penetrate my lungs as I hyperventilate, and a moth flies not only at me, but down the top of my dress.
Which just proves that someone out there still finds me amusing… Lord knows on this day, that person’s probably not my boyfriend.