What do you call it when your worst fear comes true and you rise above it and save the world?
Because that totally happened to me tonight.
You know how grasshoppers are, like, totally the most freaky little things ever and sometimes they are huge and sometimes they FLY, like a demon from hell, and sometimes they call you really terrible things that hurt your feelings?
Yes, well, here begins our story.
I grew up in southeast Louisiana. The swamps, as some would call it. And while there are many, many, MANY wonderful things about Louisiana, there are also bugs. And people, let me just make this clear to you now: NO. Bugs are the bane of my existence (not counting girl-friendly ones such as lady and/or butter, obviously, because omg, so pretty!), and I cannot tell you how many times a roach (barf!) ran up my leg or flew across the room or made me speak in tongues. But I can tell you exactly how I reacted each time I laid eyes on one: DAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDD!!!!!! And because my parents are upstanding people, they only rolled their eyes and sighed heavily some of the time before they saved my life.
So, a year ago, when I loaded up my car and moved back home to Louisiana to live On My Own, I was facing one of my biggest fears: living without anybody to kill the bugs! It's Louisiana! Of course there are bugs! My dad-my hero, my knight in shining Raid- is 400 miles away! WHO WILL KILL THE BUGS?! Well, praise the Lord, the homeowner's association of this townhouse complex I'm in has THE most rockin' pest control ever to walk this Earth because in a year of living here? Not a single bug. (And yes, I am aware that because I typed that sentence, a roach will crawl across my face tonight while I sleep. Pray for me.)
A couple of days ago, I noticed, right outside my front door, a green grasshopper (uuuggghhhaccckk!). Surprisingly, it was very polite and did not verbally abuse me nor did it attempt to end my life. Southern hospitality, indeed! I quietly went inside so as not to disturb this newcomer, and I certainly didn't want it to mistake any sudden moves as an act of war. Because if there is one thing I know, it is DO NOT POKE THE LION!
Day 2 morning rolls around and on my way out the front door to walk Gracie girl, it seems The Newcomer had made its way in between my front door and the storm door. Uuuuugggghhhhhh! Nooooo! Too much, too fast, sir! I wanted to shoo it, but then there was the chance that it would jump (uggghack!) in my direction and this was just an entirely unaccpetable option unto me. So I just closed the door again slooowly praying to high heavens that it didn't get smashed because holy pepto, if that doesn't make a girl's stomach turn, I don't know what will.
Here we are at Day 2 evening, out strolling with my little fur baby in the beautiful springtime air. My mind starts to wander to the awesome bowl of strawberries I'm about to make with just a bit of sugar on top, when I pull open the storm door, and that little FREAK SHOW is just chilling on the threshold between storm door and real door. Waiting for me. Uuuuuggghhhack! BAAAARF! What do you want from me?!
Gracie is almost through the door when that little sucker jumped (I blacked out.), and Gracie, who is SO not a lady, goes after it with canine teeth flying. Huuggghhhhaaack! I tried to rush her through the door because omg it's outside it's outside it's outside let's go in! That thing apparently becomes possessed with everything that is evil and unholy and FLIES INTO MY HOUSE!!!
Well, my sweet little baby loves her Mama so much that she launches forward into the living room after it, and throws herself right on that live grenade. I yelled "Get it!" Chomp! (BARF!) My mind starts racing at how this is now going to play out. "Let her eat it! No, gross, you're going to have hopper parts everywhere!" As it turns out, Gracie does not know the difference between "Get it!" and "Kill it and then take it outside!" because of COURSE she let it go and I had to watch it try to figure out what the heck just happened. And omgomgomgomgomgomg if there is a leg on my floor... (BAAAAARFFFFUUGGGHACCCK!)
It is at this very moment when clarity sets in. The Felon (breaking and entering = felony) is sitting in stunned stillness. Gracie is staring at it, daring it to move. I've got to the get this thing out. It getting eaten is just...well, that's a dark place that my mind cannot go to. Dreams die there. I grabbed Gracie's leash and steered her away from her prey, then put her in the bathroom to stay out of the way. (Also, she did not bark even once while in that bathroom, which, anybody who has ever met that animal will tell you, is a miracle in itself. It's as if she knew she were witnessing something intense.) I ran to the kitchen to assemble my [secret but awesome name redacted so that you can't steal it] kit.
I put a glass over him then slowly slid a piece of mail or something underneath the cup so he was all up in there. And y'all, homeboy just walked right up into the cup and was all on the side of it and I could see it through the glass and then I aged 10 years and will now never know what my 30's would've been like. After a good bit of dry heaving and omgomgomgomg-ing, I made it out the front door. Well, dude liked the glass so much he wouldn't GET OUT OF IT, so I had to shake it and his creepy exoskeleton clanked against the inside of the glass (THUNK!) on his way out and then I died and came back as an angel to tell the story and probably haunt you some, too. because that would be funny.