So, last night B and I are laying in bed looking at a catalog for Christmas ideas. I reach back to turn the light off and he tells me to stop. I look at him and is face has "that look". The look that makes you shrink and fear what's behind you. I did turn, and saw nothing.
He pointed out how camoflauged it was. And then I did see it.
One of those icky assasin bugs, hiding out on the side of a hand made clay pot one of the kids gave to me for Mother's day. We stared at each other for a second.
There was no way I was removing the thing, he saw it first, he should do it.
He did and we spent several minutes looking around before finally turning the lights off. Making sure there wasn't more of them and wondering. Wondering if there was a nest of them somewhere and if they were just waiting for us to relax before they attacked. Wondering at their intelligence and their purpose for being in our bedroom. Wondering if we would wake up covered in icky bugs, or not wake up because we were bit so many times the toxins built up in our systems and killed us.
Okay, that was me.
Once the light was off, he fell asleep. I'm the one who felt every tickle of the sheets and every brush of my own hair. But...those bugs are gross! And why was one in my bedroom?
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