As a fair division of labor in our household, Evan kills things with four legs or less, and I kill things with greater than four legs. Each of us are generally fearless in our respective assignments. Evan's handy with a gun and my black church shoes are ideal for smashing 6-8 legged creatures because they are heavy and flat-soled.
And then, last Saturday night, I saw this:
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| (Not my actual scorpion.) |
It was a little more than I could handle. Luckily the kids were already in bed. Unluckily, Evan was on call at the hospital and was unable to lend moral support. (As per our arrangement, it's not his job to kill things with eight legs, two pincers, and long stinging tails.) I grabbed a large can of bug/spider killing spray and my cell phone. And called my Mommy and Daddy.
Mom: Hey Jan! How are you?
Jan: THERE'S A SCORPION IN MY HOUSE CRAWLING UP MY WALL!
Dad: Really! That's neat.
Jan: I HAVE TO KILL IT! AND I WANTED SOMEONE TO TALK TO AS A WITNESS IN CASE I DIE!
You can ask Mom and Dad and they will tell you what happened: I freaked out a little bit. It was the first one I'd ever seen in person, and even though it was only two inches from claws to stinger, it was really scary. My loving parents helped me through how to kill the creature.
- Killer spray - not very effective
- Oven mitts - great for injuring it
- Small but heavy metal boxes - death!
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| The quarter is for scale. |
I did further research and found that they are very common in the Midsection of America, are known for their complex courtship rituals, and do not have lethal venom. I came away feeling even less at ease with my children walking around the house barefoot. (I also had a huge adrenaline buzz, but an hour on the exercise bike fixed that.)
But, because I'm sure comparisons will arise, I want to know how many scorpions Jill has seen (I don't want to know how big) and I want to know if that gecko still lives behind Melinda's clock.
