Monday, March 23, 2015

Mom vs. Mothra

Let me preface this story with this...

Everyone has their "things".  I, for instance, do NOT like spiders.  Not even sort of.  Im the type that would have to move if there was a spider birth in my home.  My sister in law? They don't bother her at all.  On the other hand, she has a "thing" for moths.  They don't bother me much.  I don't love them, but I can live.  Onward.....

So, here in the desert, we are in full bloom.  Flowers, trees, pollen, pollen, pollen.  I don't have frequent allergies, but a spring like this can do anyone in and I have been suffering greatly.  Worse, one of the only things that helps me is Benadryl, which is crap medication. The other night I just couldn't take it any more.  I was on the verge of gouging my eyes out and it was seeming like a really good idea, so I caved and took 2 Benadryl.

About 20 minutes later, at about 10:30pm, someone appears in my doorway.  It's Thing 1.  20 minutes, in case you are wondering, is just about enough time for the benadryl to make you really sleepy and a little loopy.  He is claiming he needs some help, as there is a "GIANT moth in my room".  Apparently he takes after my sister in law.  

So, sleepy as I am, I tell him to go downstairs and "get the whacker...you know what I mean, right?"  Im trying to say flyswatter, but I can't find the words.  He gets it and we proceed to his room.  Upon arriving I ask him where it is, but he doesn't know because he ran out and won't go back in and check.  So I start looking around and 

OMG! 

He wasn't kidding when he said GIANT!  The thing is the size of a small hummingbird.  Of course, my drug addled brain thinks this is kind of funny.  All I can think as it's flying around the room is "Wow, his room is on the second floor, all the way in the back.  How did this thing get up here?"  It is flying around in this completely random pattern, as moths do, and I really can't think of any way to smash it, so I just start swinging, tennis style, at it.  Thing 1 is standing in the hall.  Then, on maybe the fourth swing, CRACK!  I hit it.  Did I mention the benadryl and how it makes one loopy?  Well, Im so thrilled with myself I throw my hands up in the air and turn to Thing 1 and say "DID YOU SEE THAT?  I GOT IT!!!"  He is not impressed.  If the look on his face was translated into words, it would have been something like " OMG crazy person, I do NOT care, just KILL IT"  It is the closest I have ever seen to someone actually crawling out of their skin.  

So I do what any good mother would do.....I laugh at him.


                                                    His "not amused" face.
                                  
But, unfortunately, the damn thing is still very much alive, because did I mention it's extra large size?  So it starts flying around again and I start swinging, and even though I might as well be drunk by now, I smash it again!  And again, up with the arms!  "YES!  I HAVE MAD NINJA SKILLS!"  He is still not amused and now his eyes are shooting daggers.  Turns out that its stunned and wounded and lying on his pillow!

"Umm...yeah.  So what happens if I whack it on your bed?"  I ask.

"OH, THAT DOES NOT MATTER....ALL THOSE SHEETS ARE GETTING CHANGED RIGHT NOW ANYWAY!"

So, instead of smashing it, I get some toilet paper and scoop it up and RUN to the bathroom and flush it.  

Having saved my child from certain death, and being quite out of it due to the allergy pills, I walk back into my bedroom intent on passing out, flush with victory. Right when my husband exits the bathroom and looks at me and says....

"Where were you?"

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