So another ill begotten adventure this trip was that of my solo-slaying scorpion escapade. One night Rob decided to go out to the local bar and drink, while I was tired and wanted to go to bed and stay home, no biggie. Let him have fun, not a big deal. That was, not a big deal until (as I was leisurely plopping into bed), I glanced up and saw this sucker:
Lovely, no? I am a typical girl in this regard and am totally creeped out even by the site of this beast of an insect. It’s actually smaller than it looks in this picture (about the size of a rubber eraser), yet no less disgusting looking. But alas, I was left to my own defenses. Rob was out (would not be back for quite awhile) and I was already in my pajamas (not about to trek out to the local bar like a scaredy cat girl and demand Rob come home to do his manly insect-killing duties). And as we’re in the village and abroad, we had zero cell phone use for me to subtly text the hubby and thusly demand he come home to do said manly insect-killing duties.
It all came down to me. So I grew some figurative balls and grabbed a broom. There was, by the way, the added complication that the scorpion was sort of just at where the wall meets the ceiling and I couldn’t just easily smack it with a shoe. No, there were tactical decisions that needed to be made. The broom came into play as I needed to “sweep” the sucker down to my level. But I knew when I made that fateful swipe, that I would need to be quick and exact and immediately follow through with the squishing, because they scurry hurry away as fast as they can. And if I had lost him to a crack in the wall or under a piece of furniture, I wouldn’t sleep another sound sleep for the rest of our trip. So I stood on a chair, broom in hand, and waited for just the right moment of peak adrenaline rush. And swipe I did. And then bang and slam and squish, on a psychotic scorpion slaying spree.
My hair all tousled and in a sweat, I retired to bed. Safe and dead scorpion sound.
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