It was a quiet and cozy movie night.
We were enjoying an oldie but a goodie: pre-Parkinsonian Michael J Fox in Back to the Future.
I had made Rice Krispie Treats earlier.
And so there we were, reclined in a semi-vegetative state. All snuggled up in the dark on the sofa, watchin' the movie, eatin' our Treats.
Something fell on my shirt. A bit of Rice Krispie Treat, no doubt.
Picture the rest of this scenario in slow motion, if you will.
I picked it up off my shirt.
Crispy. Small.
I popped it in my mouth.
I bit down.
And although it was crunchy, it was NOT a bit of Rice Krispie Treat.
It was a stink bug.
Immediately the worst taste-slash-smell filled my mouth, my nasal passages, my eyes.
Even my ears tasted it.
What followed was a series of convulsions and spitting and speaking in tongues in an effort to rid my mouth of the malodorous invader.
I think my head may have spun around once or twice.
I considered biting off my own tongue.
The kids didn't know what was going on as I writhed and drooled and flung myself around the room.
I was vaguely aware of my children throwing around the words epilepsy and exorcism, and a vision popped into my head of a man with dark eyes in a long black cloak splashing holy water on me and yelling,
"The power of Christ compels you!"
In a flash of lucidity, I hurled myself into the bathroom where I spit and rinsed and gargled and downed mouthwash like a frat boy at a hazing.
My kids finally talked me down from my crazed ablations. Like those scenes in the movies where the passionate doctor is frantically doing chest compressions through a screen of tears, and all the residents and interns and nurses have to pull him away, gently telling him, he's gone, Doug, he's gone. And he hangs his head and turns away and then just as he gets to the door, he screams, "Nooooo!" and he runs back and starts thumping on the patients's chest.
Yeah, we went through that loop two or three times.
Somehow I got through the rest of the night. In the morning a new day dawned, and I slipped back into my routine of life.
Eventually the smell and the taste faded, though it took some time before it left completely.
I'm not sure what else to say about the Stink Bug Episode. I am broken.
And I shall never be able to look at another Rice Krispie Treat.
I have Post Traumatic Stink Bug Disorder.
PTSBD.
I need therapy.
But you already knew that, didn't you.....
Image sources: orkin.com, ricekrispies.com
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