October 17, 2005
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It's called the "bug dance."
You know, you're working outside, you brush up against something...and the next thing you know, you feel something small and hard hit your neck and slide down into the back of your shirt. It wiggles around, tickling and scratching, creating havoc in your mind and imagination. With a shriek of frantic panic, the dance begins! You jump around, hitting yourself, screaming and yelling, every imaginable antic to rid yourself of the unwanted pestilence! Eventually much to your immense relief, the crisis passes...but the "phantom bug" unavoidably remains hauntingly in your mind, threatening to return at any moment! 
And so, such was the outcome of my endeavors to get some yard-work put in for today. Yuck, shudder. It's not that I necessarily hate bugs. They have a place in this world...but it's definitely not crawling down my shirt!
Comments (4)
Did anyone whose name begins with "S" have anything to do with that bug finding it's way into mischief?
Agreed. Bugs don't belong there. There's a daddy-long-leg in my closet that I desperately need to remove from the corner. I'm gettin' up the guts with time.
I can't really picture you frantically jumping around and such, by my attempts are making me laugh. thanks for the kicks kiddo
What? You have bugs in California? Hmmm...what is that like?
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