Eek
I trundled down the stairs and into the kitchen after a night of ragged sleep. On the grocery list tacked to the wall the kids had written: ‘Scorpions in the dining room!’
I stood a minute, looking back and forth between the note and the dining room door, peeked around the corner, then came to the reasoned conclusion that I should get a coffee and go back upstairs.
(Then imagined I saw them on every wall, and in bits of string on the floor.)
I’m not even remotely soothed by the assurance (spoken with a calm knowingness that makes me feel like a dope) that being on the receiving end of these nasty little black creatures is only, ‘like getting a really, really horrible bee sting. The white ones down in Spain, those’ll kill you.’
Don’t bring this up with Dean.
· · • · ·