Monday, June 3, 2019

If I Could Bottle The Feeling Of Horror, I Could Make A Fortune At Spencer's Gifts

People, you don't want to walk a mile in Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's Crocs. You don't even want to sit a spell in her stinky old New Balance. A woman with a weaker constitution would have cracked. Mrs. HM is simply teetering on the ledge that overlooks the precipice jutting above the chasm of insanity.

I generally feel safe in my semi-dark basement lair. Sure, I have clutter all around. Only one of the four fluorescent ceiling lights works. I hear things that can't be explained, and occasionally walk out my lair door to see that cabinet doors have opened completely on their own. I'm used to it.

When I turn off New Delly and my underdesk heater between 11:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m., to got out into the main basement area to watch TV in my OPC (Old People Chair)... I am not fearful. I'm safe in my house. The Queen of my Mansion. I am comfortable with my routine.

Friday night, I had all my electronics shut down. I pushed back my rolly chair to stand up and make a visit to the NASCAR bathroom next door to my lair, before gathering my tray and bubba cups to head for the OPC.

Cue the stabby Psycho music... Throw in the theme from the original Halloween as well!


Seriously! My feet were about 8 inches apart, and IN BETWEEN THEM WAS A MILLIPEDE!

That's a picture of it, on the mottled surface of my 20-year-old clear plastic mat for a rolly chair.

I almost stopped breathing. Then I couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't pick it up right then, because after seeing it, I REALLY needed to visit the NASCAR bathroom! All the while, knowing that I'd have to PICK IT UP when I came back. But what if it wasn't there??? Sweet Gummi Mary! I didn't know if I wanted to see it, or didn't want to see it!

I couldn't even remember the advice to scoop it up with a broom and dustpan! Which were sitting by my office door, a mere 10 feet away! I grabbed some squares of toilet paper (Charmin Extra Strength) and picked up the millipede, gagging and retching, holding it at arm's length, feeling the squirm, all the way to the toilet.

I'm not sure which is worse, thinking I have an infestation of millipedes, or thinking it's just one, that keeps returning from the toilet...


Sioux Roslawski said...

You've murdered the mother and father. It's now the offspring who are trying to avenge their parents' deaths...

Hillbilly Mom said...

I hope it wasn't a big family! I don't know if I can take (m)ANY more siblings!

River said...

I wouldn't call three millipedes an infestation, usually that's reserved for seeing them by the dozen on a daily basis. Or here in Adelaide, armies of them marching along, coming down from the hills areas to feast in our gardens.

Hillbilly Mom said...

I just broke out in a cold sweat, thinking of armies of marching millipedes! I hope your millipede season is over for now!