Friday, October 29, 2010

Being brave...and failing.

When my husband and I first started dating, we camped A LOT.

No electricity, no running water (aside from a half-dry creek with carp the size of my thigh trapped in its pools).

It was early enough in our relationship that my entire existence revolved around being fantastic at everything he saw me do (and being undeniably attractive while doing it).

This is a high hurdle to jump when you’re trying to be a camping hardass and have a paralyzing fear of the dark (especially outside).

One particular night comes to mind…

We were alone in the summer night.  Darkness had fallen on the valley.  I, trying to be cute – yet woodsy, had worn a pair of overalls and a tank top.  I was very skinny back then (weren't we all). The pants hung loosely around my hips, the tank was snug.

(Shut up, it was the style back then…or 5 years prior to then…whatever)

I looked hot. I remember like it was yesterday.

At one point during the evening – my love took a walk down the creek while I tended the fire.

Be strong! You know there are no bears or wolves or big cats in a 200 mile radius of here. Nothing is going to come out of the darkness and eat you.

I squinted in the direction that he’d walked. My face stoic in case he could see me in the light of the campfire.

It’s quiet enough that nothing will surprise me. Be brave! Don’t let him see you freak out this early on. Don’t let him see the dark side…yet.

I poked the fire. I stepped back to admire the stars, the quiet - still holding onto the poking stick. I grew up playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I could totally bust a move if necessary.

See, you’re fine.

And then out of the flames – as if from the mouth of hell itself – flew the most obnoxiously gigantic insect I had ever seen in person!

I swung in the darkness blinded by the fire. Miss!

Then, it happened.



I girl screamed, folks.

I don’t DO that. Especially when I’m actively trying to play it cool.

I dropped trou as if I had rehearsed the scene a hundred times.

He came out of the shadows to see the woman he’d been courting doing the heebie jeebie dance beside the fire in her tank top and undies.

I explained my situation, emotionally scarred by the experience.

The culprit emerged from my pant leg.

It was a Dobsonfly.

They look like this…

Yeah, that’s what I thought! Thankyouverymuch!!

He thought all of this was simply adorable.


Stay At Home Babe said...

This post is genius. I saw the bug and went what-the-holy-fuckin-shit-oh-my-god-what-IS-that-thing-EEEEWWWWW!

Then I read, "Yeah, that's what I thought!"


Michelle Hoad said...

I am traumatized just reading about this ginormous bug. I am personally afflicted with a zillion chigger bites that are taking an extraordinarily long time to go away. I spent my entire girl's weekend with my friends telling me to get my hands out of my pants.

Ms EM said...

OMG! Here's a thought that always comes to my mind while I'm outdoors trying to have a good time.

Why is it that a bug (any f'n kind) has the whole wide world in which to travel and the f'rs always find their way up my nostrils or down mt shirt or in my pants/shorts? WHY? (BTW - my nostrils are not large!)

Cort (Modern Super Momma) said...

Yes, I especially hate the gnats that fly into your eyes. Aren't eyelashes supposed to keep things OUT instead of sweep them IN?? I feel like a horse when they swarm around me...

Bethany said...

Ohhhh my gosh! I am not usually scared of bugs and such but that thing down my pants would be SCARY!