A bug's life

I had a rough night.

First, I was ridiculously UNCOMFORTABLE all night, and at 1:30 am, was suddenly awakened by an attack of acid reflux. A bad one. I awoke with a start and thought, "MUST SIT UP NOW!" It was disgusting. But, unfortunately, sitting up quickly when you are a whale is a challenge. I did manage to get out of bed and find some Tums in the darkness. I ended up camping on the recliner for three hours.

That's not too terrible.

But it gets worse.

So, I go back to bed at like, 4:30. Very shortly thereafter (an hour, but it seemed like two seconds) I am awakened by something CRAWLING ON ME.

I swat at my neck and sit up quickly. My fan is blowing, so I think, "Okay, maybe it was my hair..." I sit there in the dark early morning, and wait. Then, the crawling continued, on my arm. I swat some more and jump about.

But, you know, when you're sleepy and you're not rational, it can SEEM like something is crawling on you, when really nothing is. So, I sit there some more. And it keeps feeling like something was crawling on me. Finally my thrashing awakens my husband, who asks me what the matter is. No doubt he thinks I am in labor.

Nope, just phantom creepy-crawlies. No worries.

So, he drifts off again, and I lay down. Approximately 40 seconds later, Derek jumps up swatting at his neck.

"Oops, did I make you paranoid?" I ask. 'Cause you know, when someone tells you that they have a bug on them, it's easy to imagine that you, too, are being crawled on.

"NO!" he exclaims. "There was a bug on me!" He is now hopping around his side of the bed, swatting at himself.

I "leap" off the bed (as fast as my whale-status allowed) and say, "I KNEW IT! I KNEW SOMETHING WAS CRAWLING ON ME!"

After making sure no children were asleep on our floor (it happens, a lot) we turn the lights on and Derek finds the culprit on his shirt. He whacks it to the floor.

And then, for the first time, I see it and declare, "Holy ______ (insert naughty word here). That thing is HUGE!" And it was.

Gigantic. Hideous. It was some sort of desert beatle. I run for the closet and fling at shoe in Derek's general direction. This distracts him, and we lose sight of the creature from H-e-double-hockey-sticks. Finally, he finds it on the side of the bed. He knocks it down and kills it with vengence.

I, being the dutiful wife and helpmeet to my man, get a wad of TP and flush the remains, just to be safe.

Then, we stripped our bed.

And made it up again, after making sure none of his buddies were around.

Then, Derek fell back asleep, after watching the news for a bit.

And Spencer woke up. And I got to be up for the day. Lucky, lucky me.