Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Attack of the Giant Green Flying Beetles!!!!!

I don't think I'm alone in saying that those giant green flying beetles are a menace and I shriek like a little girl and flap my arms about like a lunatic whenever one flies into my face. They're just so bumbling and don't seem to have any real control over their bodies or a clear sense of direction - much like a rabid dog or a teenaged boy- which makes any movement they make seem reckless and dangerous. So you can imagine my horror when I was sitting in my car on my lunch break reading a book and one flew in through my open window. One that was easily as big as a spiral ham.


I instantly swatted it with my book in the attempt to get it out the other window but my aim was bad and I swatted it into the door which momentarily stunned it and it fell in between the door and the passenger seat. He would flutter his wings every time I would make a move to open the door - presumably to warn me that he didn't want the door open because he was coming to eat my face, as soon as he got his barings. During this time my panic rose and I thought of all sorts of horrible scenarios. What if it's angry and decides to seek revenge by flying at my head and nesting in my hair? What if it's dazed and confused and ends up flying at my head and nesting in my hair? What if it's wanting a little comfort and decides the best way to get this is by flying at my head and nesting in my hair? It's too big to burrow up my nose or in my ear but I bet it could gouge my eyes out if it really wanted to. Even with my glasses on. It's so big that I bet he could lift my glasses right off my face, fold them up and place them on the passenger seat before gouging my eyes out.

I could hear him coming around and I mentally prepared myself to use my book again in self defense, even though it's a book that means a lot to me and I would have been a little devastated to get green goo all over it. (Northanger Abbey. My dad gave it to me when I was 14. He thought I would like Jane Austen. He was right.)

There was no need. The beast flew up and sat on the passenger seat for a second and then found his way to the open window. I rolled up the windows and took a minute to compose myself and let my heart rate slow and then I made a mad dash for my office. Because I'm pretty sure he was eyeing my hair as he left.


Anna said...

THAT is exactly my feelings about moths. ICK.

Amy said...

Those things freak me out. Just last week when we were swimming over at the Livingstons, one of those suckers landed right on my son, Logan's, arm. Instead of remaining calm so as not to scare Logan and just flick the bugger away, I screamed like a little girl and flailed at it until it flew away. Poor Logan was traumatized, most likely by my reaction and not the creepy, huge flying bug that had landed on his arm. Way to go Mom! ha!

The Katzbox said...

I just this evening saw one of those monsters at a diner we took the kids to for rootbeer floats. It was floating in a fountain outside and the kids felt compelled to fish it out on a piece of paper and drop it at our feet like an offering to the Gods of Ice Cream. My daughter, who gave birth 6 days ago, as well as myself, have lost all sense of adventure, as well as enthusiasm. We asked them to pick it up and throw it in the grass. After I read your harrowing encounter, I realized how blase' I've become.

Thanks for the reminder that I need to react more fully.


Rach said...

So I'm not the only one that lives in fear of a bug nesting in my hair? Good. Ick. I don't know what these horrible green bugs are, but I was in Baltimore during the plague of cicadas, and it was a living nightmare to go outside. Creepy nasty bugs are the worst. I'm sorry for your harrowing experience.