The Moon Is Made Out Of Cheese And My Boat Is Made Out Of A Pop Tart

Last night when I went to bed, a moth flew into my face.

Go ahead and put money on the fact that I laid there calmly in my bed.  You’ll lose it.  Do you know when the Tasmanian Devil would spin out of control on the old Looney Tunes cartoons?  That is pretty much what I looked like.  In bed.  My arms were spinning 360 degrees on my shoulder sockets, fast enough to completely blur themselves out.  My legs were kicking out in all directions, and I was shaking my head from side to side, hollering like a torture victim.

Behold the spectacle that is a 40-something girl with a spontaneous moth-landing happening on her face.  I know that moths are barely the size of a quarter, but when it decided to land on my forehead, right before I drifted off to sleep, it felt like a 200-pound pterodactyl with the power to bite through steel walls.

Hubs sat bolt upright in bed and hollered out, “What?!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”  Hubs had already been asleep, because he has no estrogen that makes him too hot, and then too cold, and then too uncomfortable, and then CAN I PRESS A PAUSE BUTTON FOR THE THREE MILLION THOUGHTS CIRCULATING IN MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW?  Testosterone only knows the joys of falling asleep peacefully in four seconds flat.

I told Hubs, “Oh, my gosh!  I think a moth just landed on my face!”

Because was it a moth?  Or was it a killer bat?

The proper reaction for Hubs would have been for him to prepare for battle against the moth.  The proper response would have been for him to get out of bed, turn on the lights, and fight the moth to the very death for having the nerve to freak his beloved out.  What Hubs chose to do instead was to say, “You woke me up!  Go to sleep!”

Yes.  Of course, dear.  Because do you know how easy it is to actually fall asleep when you’re too hot, and then too cold, and then too uncomfortable and then trying to power down everything your mind is trying to think of at once, AND THEN HAVE A MOTH ATTEMPT AN EMERGENCY LANDING ON YOUR FOREHEAD?

I’d say it’s quite easy, actually.

Except then I’d be lying.

After Hubs had rolled back over and fallen asleep five seconds later, I tried to calm my adrenaline down by doing the Lamaze breathing I never had to use because C-SECTION, PEOPLE.  I plumped up my pillow and turned it back over to the cold side.  I fluffed up my blanket, shook my hair out, and settled back into bed.

And that dadgum, freaking moth landed on my mouth then!

Reaction Number Two was exactly the same as Reaction Number One, so I don’t feel like I need to write anything about it.  Except that Hubs sat up and said, “Knock it off,” in a very soothing whisper.

Except not, because a very soothing whisper isn’t a voice that Hubs owns.

That’s when Cat 2 came to my rescue, because MOTH IN THE HOUSE!  MOTH IN THE HOUSE!  ALL HANDS ON DECK!!!  She had strolled into the bedroom at that time, and she can sense a flying bug better than our military’s radar and computers can sense a hovering aircraft from afar.  Cat 2 can also catch ANYTHING that flies in mid-air.  Yes, she can!  She became my champion, as she ran back and forth between the bathroom and our bedroom, hot on the heels (wings?) of this rogue moth, who was traveling at Mach 5.  Cat 2 was breaking the sound barrier in her attempt to bag him, and then…

…everything went quiet.

And the quiet was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a cat crunching a moth to the death, while she eats him… body, wings, face, and all.

There are some sounds you just can’t un-hear, and this is one of them.

And that is why I think I finally fell asleep somewhere around 1:00 this morning.

That’s not even what I had for y’all tonight, but you know how I get on rabbit trails and follow them through until the end.

What I have for you is this:

IMG_8422THAT is what I found last night, when I walked into the boy’s bathroom to steal toilet paper from his stash.

It is a partial S’Mores flavored Pop Tart with a plastic golf tee stuck in it.  On top of the golf tee is a gum wrapper that has been artistically folded to make a sail or sun covering of some kind.

I don’t even pretend to understand boys and their ability to engineer ships out of whatever happens to be in their pockets at the time.

I also have no idea how they can grow up to be men who will let a female cat fight a moth that attacked their wife.  Maybe they should learn to build miniature guns out of partial Pop Tarts and golf tees that can be used as weapons in the war on moths.

Y’all have a happy Monday night.

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