The other day, I reached a critical, “should I or shouldn’t I” moment. You know what I’m talking about. Those moments when something happens and you have two clear roads to take and not a lot of time to take one. I’m sure you’re thinking it had something to do with being a mom and making those tough parenting decisions. Nope, that’s not what I’m talking about. However, I did have one of those moments on the weekend and to summarize the ending of that situation, I did let my 21 month old eat right out of the peanut butter jar for lunch.
I’m talking about my encounter with a giant bug. Now, don’t get me wrong, I grew up on a farm and am one of the few girls not afraid of bugs. This however, this was not a bug; this was a mutant. According to my husband, it was a mosquito. No, it was the mother of all mosquitos. It was the mosquito that all of the others are afraid of. It must have been rejected from the cast of Jurassic Park because it was too big. That is the only logical reason I can see for it to be in my house.
Here’s what happened…
I was finishing chopping some vegetables and went to bring the peelings and stems to the garbage when I found it. It was on my wall, surely trying to suck the insulation out. You’re probably wondering why it caused a crossroads situation. Well, remember what I was doing prior to seeing it? That’s right, still in my right hand was the giant butcher’s knife that I was using to chop the veggies. Can you guess what my first instinct was? Many know me as a logical person, so naturally, the first logical road to take was to stab the thing that nightmares are made of.
There it was. I had to choose between two roads. Man, the look in my husband’s eyes when he realized I was actually contemplating stabbing a, how did he put it – oh yeah, “a stupid mosquito”.
I’m sure you’re wondering which road I took. Well, I decided to put down the knife and do the other logical thing. I killed it with a potato.
I’d like the world to know, that I only took the second road because the knife would have ruined my perfectly good wall and then I would have needed to throw out a perfectly good knife. Not to mention that my husband would have taken away my knife privileges in the kitchen again.