So my kids are home for the summer. They’re hanging out at home, except when my mom takes them to the movies or they go to their other gramma’s to swim. They’ve been doing great. I give them chores to do each day and so far, so good.
Also, the calls to me during the day have been minimal, so that pleases me. I remember my own mother threatening my brother and I with a painful death if we didn’t stop calling her at work during our own summer vacations.
Today, however, I got a call. I couldn’t answer because I was already on the phone with a client.
Sassy’s voice mail said, “Give us a call so Bandit and I can tell you about our exciting morning.”
I called immediately. “Are the firemen there?”
“No,” she said. “But let me tell you.”
The story she regaled me with involved a cat who loves to eat bugs, a broom, a giant insect – and a roll of duct tape.
I know. Hold on. I’ll explain.
Apparently, Jojo Kitty was yowling in a manner that implied he wanted to be fed. Once Sassy opened her bedroom door to take care of his needs something large and with entirely too many legs skittered across the floor. She screamed for her brother who came running with a broom. I assume at this time he backed away to a safe distance while Sassy commenced beating the ever-loving shit out of that bug.
As soon as they decided it was dead, the three of them — Sassy, Bandit, and the cat — ran to a safe room and debated what to do about it now. Should they wait for their grandmother to come over and then beg her to wipe it up? Could one of them actually handle it?
Sassy felt that she could do it. She was a teenager now and she expected she could handle this new responsibility. I’m also certain that her brother backed away to a safe distance at this time, too.
As Sassy tells the story, her brother was positioned at the front door, poised to open it as she approached, sweeping the bug carcass outside. Except that the “carcass” twitched as she approached with the broom.
Imagine, Dear Internet, the shrieking that now rang through my house by both kids accompanied by fresh whacking with the broom, encouraging baying from the hound dog, and more wild-cat like yowling from the cat who was desperate to get at the bug. I honestly have no idea how the neighbors didn’t call the police.
Once again, our intrepid warriors gathered their animal cheering squad and retreated to a safe room.
So now in the doorway to the kitchen lies a battered insect and a mangled broom. What to do. What to do.
I believe what they came up with was pretty inspired.
This was exactly what My Honey found when he came home from work. Behold – a paper towel duct taped around the body. This bug was going nowhere.