Mrs Simmons

Yesterday kicked off the beginning of centipede season at Hrmph Headquarters. Every April, around this time, our home is suddenly awash with these creatures. Yeah. They really are that big.

I’ve finally accepted that they aren’t going to eat my feet and hands and I can now kill them without crying, screaming and generally freaking out. Last night, however, I freaked out. I decided to shower before bed to wash off the SCREAMIN’ alert scent I’d been wearing earlier in the day – which was Guerlain Pamplelune for those interested in that sort of thing. Pamplelune is lovely, but it is definitely a daytime scent – mostly because it’s like a honkin’ fresh squeeze of grapefruit screaming in your face, “WAKE UP! THE PAMPLELUNE HAS ARRIVED!” Not exactly soothing. I’d be laying all night, awake, dreaming of grapefruit groves and cereal.

I wear glasses, so I can’t really see much of the time in the shower, plus I’d lit some candles and dimmed the lights, so there wasn’t much seeing going on. I finished showering and dried off, soothed, relaxed and ready for bed.

*insert creepy horror-movie music here*

As I was toweling off, the little pervcat, Cappy got up from his spot where he was watching me shower and became extraordinarily interested in the bathtub. I saw some movement near the far end, put my glasses on and peeked in.

Jesus Christ, I had company. I had just showered with THREE CENTIPEDES. They had somehow managed to all hover just outside of the spray on the far end of the tub, waiting for me to get out so they could dance around victoriously. Like vultures. Little vultures with LEGS. Lots and lots and lots of legs. I immediately turned on the water and began Operation Drown Centipede, cackling manaically and yelling at them, “You wanna FUCK WITH ME? I will DROWN YOUR ASS!”

Kimora would be proud.

5 comments April 23rd, 2005