I don’t like to confess the stupid things I do, but sometimes it makes me feel better to get them off my chest. I hope I’ll get some comments on this post from others who’re like me—scared of bugs flying around my head. Look, I can face snakes, frogs, and most times spiders. But I’m petrified when some buzzing creature is flapping his wings in my face. I scream and run.
Let me explain what happened. My husband put up a great bird-feeder on the deck near the dining room window. We’ve had lots of customers, and some of the seeds had fallen to the brick floor. I decided I better sweep them up, so I proceeded to grab the broom and dustpan. I walked past the feeder to get the broom in the corner of the deck. Only thing, I must’ve jiggled the feeder as I passed.
My husband’s brother and his friend had arrived to pick up some items Joe had for him. They stood in the dining room looking at the barbecue set.
Meanwhile, on the outside of the house, I proceeded to get the broom. When I looked in the dining room window, the three were in deep discussion. Then something tapped my shoulder, and I screamed as if I’d been stabbed. The three men rushed to the window, their mouths hanging open and their eyes wide. That’s the way guys are. Their basic instinct is to protect females.
I turned toward the side where something had touched me, and the bird-feeder swung back and forth when I’d jostled it. Red faced, I went in the house and explained how it was only a mistake—a bird-feeder hit my shoulder.
I won’t go into the expressions each wore on their faces—like they honestly believed Joe’s wife needed psychiatric care.
Well, wouldn’t you scream if something tapped you, and you didn’t know what or who it was?
Well, okay. Everyone is different.