Moths are super scary. I don't know why. Yesterday, as I was approaching my front door after a long day at work (and a ride home on the CTA with the usual cast of crazies), I noticed a moth the size of my hand (okay, slight exaggeration) trapped between the security door and the front door. The mail slot was ajar from the postman trying to shove too many sales flyers through at one time, so I'm guessing that's how it got in. It stopped me dead in my tracks as I considered... what to do? Should I go next door and get our neighbor Gary to de-moth for me? Something told me he'd probably laugh at me.
So I just stood there for a while. Thinking maybe I could just wait it out. Let it do whatever it needed to do and then fly on home. I didn't know what it was capable of or what its intentions were. I yelled at it in my best outdoor voice, "go away." Apparently it cannot obey simple commands; must be a male. Oh wait, Mothra speaks Japanese, right? So it's a language barrier issue. Next I swung my purse at the door to maybe startle it. Nothing.
I stood there a while longer before coming to the ultimate conclusion that sooner or later I'd have to open the door. So I put the hood of my jacket up (they fly into your hair, or is that bats?), placed the key into the lock and opened the door while turning my body sideways and closing my eyes very tightly. Then I looked. It was gone.
Betcha my heart rate was faster for that encounter than it ever gets during a 5K race.
A narrow escape from "Mothra" I dare say.
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