We had two peacock geckos as pets. They ate crickets. Every week I would go to the pet store and buy 25 crickets. I was scared of them, so I would make J dump the cricket from the plastic bag into our cricket cage. One time he had to work late so I had to do it. The cage slipped as I started to dump and all of a sudden I had 25 crickets hopping all over my front room carpet. Now we had just got T home from the hospital and I was very psycho about anything (or anyone) touching him. I just knew these crickets were going to hop all over him and get him sick again. SO I grab the fly swatter was hysterically crying and screaming, "Die! Die! Die!" Why someone in our cheapo apartment complex didn't call the police, I'll never know. I shut the door to T's room, stuffed a towel under the door, and called J. Being a prince, he rushed home and found every single cricket. (Hard to tell with the smashing I did...)
2 comments:
Your posts are so stinking hilarious. I can totally just picture you jumping around trying to kill crickets. Thanks for the laugh (AGAIN) you make my day.
Seriously?! That is hilarious - although I'm pretty certain I would have reacted in a very similar manner!! I'll picture you and your fly swatter every time I see you now!
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