All I wanted to do was find my gardening gloves so E and I could do some more ivy removal at my dad's this afternoon (yes, totally lost the gloves--again). Instead, I'm thrown into a panic by the sight of this in my closet:
This is the biggest, freakiest moth I've seen since 1996 when a moth the size of my fist was beating at the screen window of Porky Porcupine, the cabin I shared at camp with my dear friend Pleaber. The stuff of nightmares, I'm telling you.
Here's another photo so you can really understand the truly unnecessary size of this thing:
E doesn't know it yet, but he's going to have to get this thing out of here first thing when he gets here. Damn, it's good to have a future husband who will have to at least pretend to be unafraid of the mammoth-sized moth. He needs to calm his future wife so we can leave in time to make it to Manny's to get the t-shirt he's been wanting. So that moth has got to go, and fast. I have this incredible urge to run from my home, but am trying to keep it together. I hope he gets here soon.
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