An Unforgettable Night - The Intruder!

A Three minute Read

One can never be prepared for the “unthinkable,” but I thought I had done my best. We made sure there were various levels of resistance available if our security system was ever breached. From an antique can of spray deodorant, to my son’s old aluminum baseball bat stowed away in our closet, I thought we had the bases covered.

But no amount of “getting prepared” had me ready for last night. I had checked the locks on both doors before bed and they were still locked this morning. All the locks on the downstairs windows had been latched. Echoes of, “it’ll never happen to me,” ironically bounced around my head as I confirmed again that we hadn’t set ourselves up for disaster.

I reflected on the fact that old adages such as, “bad things don’t happen to good people,” were just crazy talk. I’d merely gotten up to pee. I heard nothing unusual. And I saw nothing unusual, though it was mighty dark - in more ways than one as it turns out.

I did my deed, and then washed my hands while silently singing “Happy Birthday to Me,” as my grandkids learned to do during the pandemic. The song apparently takes about twenty seconds, which is how long the mightiest Corona virus can hold on before giving up their fight.

In retrospect, I guess I was singing myself back to sleep because I was completely caught off guard by what happened next. Mind you, I feel guilty even mentioning all of this because I know there are so many people that have suffered far worse in their lives. But for me here in my highly sheltered environment, it doesn’t take much to rock a boat.

My wife was sleeping a mere fifteen feet away from a crime scene and never even stirred as my nightmare unfolded. Evidently she’s not as woke as my conservative relatives might think.

Anyway, I had just finished washing my hands and had turned on the faucet so I could add just a little water to one of those blue metal camping mugs. You know the ones we see on the LL Bean tent ads. I actually couldn’t see the blue but I knew it was there - unlike the evil that lurked within my very bathroom.

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With no hint of suspicion, I raised the cup to my lips. It was then that I felt the searing pain through my upper lip. Maybe it was a little biting in character but certainly of a degree that the world has never known. My imagination went wild but simultaneously all of my neurons kicked into overdrive - and I not only saved my wife, but I became a real man in the process!

With lightning speed, I had taken a blind swipe - turning on the light. I stood there for a fleeting second staring into the cold beady eyes of the intruder. . . and somehow harnessing limitless resources, I threw open the sash and tossed that bastard right out our second story window!

And the Moral of the Story - - -

No earwig is ever going to pinch the lip of a guy from South Jersey, and live to tell about it!

The story about the pinching earwig was indeed true, but like so many stories we encounter, there’s a kernel of truth - dramatized, embellished and distorted to make some dubious point.