A Story.

 

Dear friends,

I have a horrifically-outrageous story to share with you. But please bear with me, as I attempt to multi-task between typing and watching Survivor. I certainly can't walk and chew gum at the same time - or in this case, stare at two different screens.

So this story takes place around 10:00 about three weeks ago.

Our family has this heavenly routine of eating ice cream in front of the tv after dinner (sometimes during). And so there we all were... April and Ryan all snuggled on the couch, and I sat in the chair beside them. I had just opened a brand new container of peanut butter explosion - something or other. And I was stoked to devour that sucker. Our show had started and I was waaaaaaayyyy into it. I got down to the very bottom of my mug and hadn't looked once at what I'd been putting in my mouth.

Not once. So I decided to look.

And there in my spoon was a dead but huge-in-my-opinion-camel-cricket.

A camel cricket.

CcCcccCCAaaAaaaaAAAMMmMeEEeELLLL CccCRrrIIiiICCkKEtttttttttt.

I could slide under a rock just thinking about it. And it's been three weeks... I have issues. And they're all wrapped around a stupid camel-cricket.

I had a bite in my mouth as I made the realization that there was a bug in my spoon. So like any normal person, I rocketed to the kitchen sink and spit my guts out. Not literally. But close.

My concerned parentals came into the kitchen attempting to grasp what on earth had just happened. I couldn't speak. Just spit.

After I deep-cleaned my tongue and explained my outburst, Ryan laughed and April "HHHHOOONNEEEEEYYYY......." 'd.

I could've cried, you guys.

But don't you start thinkin' I'm the wimpy kid or something.

I'll kick ya in both shins.

And send ya to the indians.

Kapeeeesh?