My niece Kira broke her arm about four weeks ago. She either fell out of a swing, or was trying to do a backflip out of a swing, depending on whose story you believe.
She went to the doctor yesterday to have her cast taken off. When they removed it, a dead roly poly fell out. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!! THE HORROR!
A while back Kira said a roly poly had crawled into her cast, and nobody believed her. I guess she has the last word on this!
Not the actual dead roly poly from Kira's cast -- my sister declined to take a photo of it,
so this image will have to suffice.
I'm guessing most of us have experienced unpleasant insect incidents?
I was about Kira's age (seven years old) when my family took a trip to see our grandparents in Arkansas. Someone had the idea that the whole freaking extended family should drive out to an old cemetery to visit my great-grandparents' gravesites. Everyone jumped into various cars and trucks that were available, and I ended up in the back of an old Ford pickup with some of my cousins. Or maybe it was a Chevy. Probably. Whatever.
We were driving on a bumpy dirt road for miles, and I was wearing red polyester pants with an elastic waistband (don't ask me why I remember this particular detail, but I do). I felt something in my pants -- something scratchy that was bothering me. The problem was around the waistband of the pants, and I just kept pinching the area trying to make the weird scratchy sensation stop. We drove on for a while, and finally pulled up to the cemetery. Everyone got out of the various vehicles to trudge up a hill to the cemetery. Wanting a little privacy to inspect the situation in my pants, I hung back a bit before I jumped out of the back of the truck. As the others walked ahead, I stood still and carefully stretched out the elastic waistband of my pants when up popped a giant grasshopper right into my face. I screamed and flailed about worrying that more vermin might be in my stupid pants, and was yelled at for behaving inappropriately at a cemetery.
Worse than that was when my sister and I lived in a dumpy apartment in Canoga Park. Our neighbors had cockroaches that fairly quickly migrated over to our apartment. UGHHHHHHHH.
One hot summer day (we did NOT have air conditioning) I was laying on my bed reading a book. It was so hot that I pulled up my shirt in an effort to keep cooler. I kept feeling something on my stomach as I read. A very light sensation -- a soft, tiny tickle on my belly. I eventually looked down to see that a freaking cockroach was crawling across on my bare stomach. SCREAM.