In this neck of the woods Wednesday is Hubby's poker night. For those of us left behind (Daughter, Son, and me), it is typically "jump in bed and snuggle watching TV night". As Hubby left the other night, he put Finley on her long leash that allows her to roam close to the house. Before we assumed our snuggling positions, it was time to get the dog inside (especially since she has a spot of her own, too - yes, spoiled dog syndrome). As I approached the door, I noticed a brownish critter clinging to the door near the handle that I was about to touch. Yes, just as I thought, a praying mantis. We (thankfully) don't see them often. Now before anyone decides to pick a fight with me about how wonderful these creatures are, let me explain the source of my terror. It all began in elementary school...back in those wondrous years known as the '70's. In class we were studying insects and someone brought in an egg case...later identified as a praying mantis egg case. We all marveled at it through the clear plastic sides of the critter cage. I remember the bright blue lid complete with an abundance of air slits as well as the white handle that could be used to carry the point of interest to other classrooms. Amazing. I had not yet learned of the true evil it possesses. Some time later, we returned from a weekend to find the room swarming with tiny mantises (is that the correct term?). This phase of the cycle had ended and yielded a few hundred mantises which were small enough to escape. Those beady little eyes. Those ferocious hooked arms. Horrific!!! Too many at once. Additionally, they are able to take down a bird! If you don't believe that one...check this out...and I LIVE in Dare County! YIKES! If they ever get a hold of steroids, we're all in trouble. Those things creep me out. But, back to the story. Upon seeing the creature on my door, two main thoughts ran through my head. First, I should let the kids look at it. My freakish feelings for these beasts should not deprive my children of an experience with nature. Second, I contemplated catching the sucker to take to my classroom, risking life and limb. I rounded up Son and Daughter. Son loved it. Daughter got the creeps. Clearly, genetics. When Fun With the Mantis was over, I reached for the door handle so I could release the critter back to the comfort of nature. Reaching for the door, that nasty little booger turned its head and looked me directly in the eye, attempting to entrance me I am sure. All I could envision were those nasty hooks embedded in my flesh. I asked Daughter to go out the front door and walk around the porch to the back door to reduce the chance of mantis/flesh contact. As she neared the door, I grabbed my weapon of choice: the broom. I completely mis-timed the opening of the door, causing the demon to crawl further into the house. Daughter was still holding the door open as I attempted to get said demon to crawl onto the broom so I could exorcise the demon from my home. In doing so, I discovered something about the mantis that I did not know. Not only do they have beady eyes that stare into the depths of ones soul and hook weapons attached to their forearms, they also have the power of flight!!! That sucker flew from one side of the door to the other, finding another wall on which to attach its wretched self!!! This is when the screaming started. Son, Daughter, and I were united in our girlie screams...Daughter being the only true girl. Of course after screaming myself, I told the children we could not scream again because the neighborhood would hear and think we were being slaughtered....which was completely plausible considering our opponent. On my second attempt, the winged warrior flew another four feet, landing on one of my cupboards and inciting another round of harmonious screams. Daughter, having seen me remove crickets and frogs from our home, yelled, "Get the cup!!" I promptly removed my next weapon from the cupboard: a clear green plastic Coke cup. As I stood there, stealthy waiting for my window of opportunity, Daughter approached the wicked invader. The beast turned its head and tried to entrance her with its beady eyes. She wisely averted her eyes. Finally, I moved forward ever so slowly. When I was within striking range, I lunged quickly capturing the beast within the confines of the plastic cup. I could barely contain the beast as it fought against the sides of the cup quite fervently. The scraping of those vicious hooks on the side of the cup was like nails on a blackboard. Daughter ran for the paper. She knew time was precious as I fought to keep the cup pressed tightly to the cabinet door as the beast fought for freedom. With paper in hand and the children at a safe distance, I tipped the cup ever so slightly and slid the paper over the opening of the cup. Unlike the babies escaping through the holes of the critter cage, this invader was not going to escape. This made the intruder fight even harder. I folded the paper around the lip of the cup, instructed Daughter to open the door, and dashed out the door to the porch where I immediately dropped my cup so the beast could escape into the night. That thing was NOT coming to my classroom to terrify others. I truly think our night was much more exciting than any ol' poker night. By the way, should I be concerned or thankful that our screams in the night were not considered odd by any of the neighbors?
3 comments:
If it had been a spider, I would have freaked out the same way. I was laughing so hard at the expression and the idea of that nasty little sucker turning it's head to steal your life force with its icy stare. As for the Keystone Cops efforts to capture said bug, reminds me of a time a little brown bird appeared in our house. I had to throw a sheet on it to capture it and keep it from hurting itself. And Renae was screaming and hiding and trying to protect Jake with the same fear you had toward the mantis. Nice funny story to start my Labor Day weekend.
You crack me up!!! These things are not that bad but your story is really funny. Thanks for the chuckle and the for giving him freedom instead of the old splat.
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