Husband and I have been living in Texas this summer while Husband works on an internship (because some people [unlike me] haven't graduated yet) (<---did you see that? I just rubbed it in! I'm a college GRADUATE, baby! Boo-yah!)
We have learned that Texas is a lot of things during the past three months we've been here.
It is big.
It is hot.
It is sweaty.
And it is scorpion-infested, apparently.
Which leads me to the point of this post: Guys. Husband almost DIED and I'm not even 100% exaggerating as much as normal.
We had the pleasure of having four scorpions invite themselves into our apartment this summer.
One day, I got up from work, turned around... and there he was. Scorpion Number One:
You're supposed to be safe in your home. But look at that thing! It was in my living room!
Luckily, Husband got home just in time to save my life.
He's a better person than me. If I were brave and stuff, I would have crushed that evil scorpion's soul with a sledgehammer. But I'm not brave, so Husband had to take care of it. He had mercy and set the little terror free outside. Which means that it was free to continue being icky and making babies and terrorizing the world. But it's okay, babe, I'm not mad about it or anything, I swear.
So I thought we were home free. Yay! Our lives were saved! We rejoiced.
But then one night I decided I wanted a six pack. You know how sometimes you just decide you want a six pack? Well I did on this one particular night. And so I put in Jillian Michaels's "Six Week Six Pack" workout DVD and started busting out the moves like a super ninja (or... something like that).
I'd been kicking my legs and waving my arms around in the air holding my hand-weights for probably ten minutes when I felt something crawl across my hand.
I dropped the hand-weight. I didn't even scream (I should be given a trophy for that).
There, chilling on my hand-weight like he owned the whole freaking world was Scorpion Number Two:
So I cowered in the kitchen while Husband set the little monster free outside. Again.
Really, babe, I'm not mad at all.
That was a close one. I was too scared to finish getting a six pack right away. And also, my finger stung where the scorpion had stung me a little bit.
I can't believe the nerve of that guy. Those are MY hand-weights!
But Husband was just laughing at the fact that I had been flinging a scorpion around for ten minutes on my hand-weight before I noticed it was there. Which I didn't find funny. I thought it was actually the most terrifying thing ever. I. Could. Have. Died!
Anyway. So once the sting on my hand subsided (which took like twenty minutes, actually. Not that bad, I guess), I started working on my six pack again and all was well.
Until one morning a few weeks later. I was sound asleep in my nice, comfy bed. Husband was getting ready for work in the bathroom. He called out, "Hey babe, come see this!"
Groggily, I roll off of the bed and head into the bathroom. And this is what I see:
Scorpion Number Three.
THERE WAS A SCORPION IN OUR BATHROOM!!!
How dare he? That is worse than being pure evil. That's invasion of privacy and I wasn't going to stand for it.
Good thing Husband was all brave and stuff. After pointing awkwardly at it while I watched from a distance, he finally smashed the dang thing and flushed it down the toilet. No more being icky and making babies and terrorizing the world for that guy. Husband was finally learning a thing or two about how to take care of scorpions (Read: Do not let them live).
So all was well. Everyone was still safe. The bathroom became, once again, a place of privacy and solitude. We lived happily ever after.
Until one morning a few weeks later.
It was a Saturday morning. A lazy one. One of the Saturday mornings where you sleep in and wake up when you're ready and eat breakfast for lunch.
Except this morning, I opened my eyes, rolled over to say good morning to Husband, and started screaming bloody murder.
I think that really woke Husband up. He bolted out of bed swatting at his face like a madman as I wailed "Scorpion! Scorpion! Scorpion!" at the top of my lungs. It was total, instant chaos.
Once we finally calmed down and realized that the scorpion was no longer on Husband's face, we started laughing. Hysterically.
What a way to wake up, right?
We searched for the scorpion for a while, but we never found it. Husband thinks it's probably dead. I, however, am of the opinion that it escaped and is biding its time in the dark. Waiting...
Good thing our stint in Texas ends tomorrow. I don't know if my blood pressure could handle any more rabid, flesh-eating scorpions.
EDIT: After I wrote this post, we found Scorpion Number Five. Husband found the little devil in the shower this morning on his last day of work before we leave Texas. Mr. Scorpie tried to fight, but it was futile. Husband won in the end, and we sent that monster off on a ride down the toilet.
Don't mess with us.