On a moth hunt.... Hubby is scared to death of them. Two nights ago I almost died laughing at him when a teeny tiny clothes moth fluttered near him and he went all Kung foo ninja freak and then screamed like a girl before scampering off.
Seriously, I'm still laughing 2 days later!
Last night he manned up and caught it in a pint glass. There are two more in here tonight... (God knows where they're coming from, it's like they can smell fear). Just caught him up a step stool in the kitchen, balancing on one leg, blinded by the kitchen light, while the cat tries to nudge him off (he went in to feed the cat and got distracted by the moth). He captured it and I had to dispose of it.
The other one was on the top of the kitchen window, over the sink. All but impossible to reach! But I had a go for him (his nerves were shot). It escaped, flapped towards us, and I had to swipe it out if the air with a piece of jus-rol packaging, where it spiralled down and crash landed (in a tiny puff of flames!!!!) somewhere behind the root veg store by the stove!
Ok...... So I might have elaborated on the last part. A bit. But this is how it feels!
Hubby is now having a celebratory bowl of cereal, and I'm thinking of calling the special doctors...
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