lizziewain-blog

[lizziewain-blog]

insects keep fallin’ on my head

Ever since I had a baby a mere thirteen months ago, I have had four bugs fall on me. Okay, that is not completely accurate. I have had three bugs fall on me and one crawl up my leg. Ah, okay, you’re correct… I am still not being my ONE HUNDRED PERCENT AUTHENTIC truth-telling self. Okay, let me try this again.

Since July 24, 2017, I have had a spider crawl up my leg in the middle of the night as I clutch a small, helpless infant. This happened as I was navigating through the living room slash dining room slash baby changing slash mind field of infantile toyland in my incredibly shitty one bedroom Chicago apartment. But because I am a deft, graceful, classically- trained ex-ballerina, I was able to not trip and kill the baby, and, more importantly myself. (Ah, I kid, I kid. I know my dear babe’s life is way more important than mine. Oh, and I have never taken a dance class in my life, except in my head as I lay in bed daydreaming about being a ballerina at least four nights a week since I was 12; the age my mother dashed my dreams and told me I was too old to enroll in a beginner’s ballet class. AGEISM MUCH, RACHEL?! Incredible. #metoo. #sorrythatwasnotpoliicallycorrect.) Anywho, on to the next insect.

I have had a spider fall on me from a large, red and white striped umbrella while trying to frantically consume an alcoholic beverage before I have to pay attention to my ten month old baby again. This was on the patio of the same Chicago haunt that me and my current roommate met! And, yes, this roommate also happens to be the father of Baby and boyfriend of Me. Clearly, this place is a cursed land that I shan’t travel to anymore! For the only thing there for more me are creatures that will haunt my  dreams and ruin my life while playing with my hair!

However, the only thing more terrifying than an arachnid falling upon me, came in the form of  GIANT, GRASSHOPPER / CRICKET HYBRID. This lad nearly fell on me while closing the front door to our apartment, while holding now nearly one year old babe. It gently skimmed my shoulder and whispered “we’ve got you now, Liz” as 12,000 of his favorite cousins appeared and they began consuming my body. The whole process took eight minutes. Okay, I am embellishing. After his gentle murmur, he affixed himself to the wall as I screamed and hauled ass up the stairs, taking them TWO AT A TIME! Taking stairs two at a time while holding a 20 pound gourd, I mean, 20 pound baby, left me out of breath and incapacitated for nearly twelve days.

And, finally, while toting a baby AND a basket of laundry, I had a praying mantis fall from the ceiling and come within an inch of my arm. This caused me to not only scream, but drop my rather small basket of laundry. Why, you may be wondering, was she carrying a “small basket of laundry?” Well, she will tell you. It was a small load, comprised of only extremely soiled items that I lovingly pretreated with stain remover, or doused them with Shout and forgot about them for three days until I re-Shouted them and mustered up the energy to take them downstairs to the laundry room. ANYWHO. Thus, this is the story of how back-of-the-drawer period underwear erupted all over the back staircase of our apartment.

I’m not too sure when the next bug assault will strike, but, what I can assure you is that I will not be prepared and will definitely die. Okay, hopefully not. Hopefully, the bug will land on The Baby and I will have plenty of time to sprint away while she figures out the best way to handle the situation. Either that, or I’ll toss her a bottle of Raid. (Sixteen month olds know how to use spray bottles, right?) See you soon, unless a house centipede lands on me, because I will be forced to commit myself to an insane asylum for my own benefit. (Those things are sterile, right?)