Monday, October 15, 2012

Scream

Screaming is not something I am unaccustomed to.
Not at all.
I've been a screamer for as long as stories could be told about my antics.

Me, 2 years old.

I distinctly recall being 6 years old and screaming so much my voice was raspy - because a glass lizard decided to slither onto our deck. My Dad picked it up, and it broke. And the parts all kept wiggling.

I remember when I was 7, seeing a snake in our pool during a game of Marco Polo. I threw all competitiveness to the wind and started screaming in terror.

I remember being 12 years old during a sleepover, and seeing two glowing red eyes jumping up and down (making scratching noises) while my sister, our friend, and I, screamed for our lives. Thankfully, our parents saved us from the real - live - bat, that had infiltrated our room.

I've screamed over roller coasters, flying squirrels, roaches, crickets, spiders, hair on my neck, scary music, and every time my dad tried to scare me.

Every single time.

Last summer, I screamed because a roach fell on my head when I opened our outdoor table umbrella.

(Sorry neighbors)

You get the picture. If my children are screamers, they get it from their Mama.

Which is why the scream I heard last night was so very epic.

Bitty Bean (who has the cutest voice ever created, with a slight rasp and a little lisp) was playing in the backyard with the rest of the Beans.  They were all playing with the grasshopper they had trapped earlier in the day.

Now, when I say "grasshopper," you are probably thinking something small, cute, and harmless. 
A la Jiminy Cricket. 
(Who is the main character in my nightmares, by the way, but that is a post for another day.) 
You would be exceptionally wrong.

This grasshopper was a locust relative of giants. I have never seen a bug so very large in real life. I would have expected something of this magnitude if I were in some tropical jungle far from civilization.  IF the creatures were all fed a steady diet of miracle grow and radiation.

But that is most definitely NOT where I live.

So the size was rather disconcerting to just look at (for me) - but the children were happily playing with it, so I let them be.

I have never - in all my 30 years - seen anyone scream with every fiber of their being.
Until yesterday.



Apparently, Bitty Bean sat on the sidewalk too close to the Great Insect, and it jumped on her.

ON HER DRESS.

As Bitty Bean screamed a scream that would make Neve Campbell proud, I ran to her rescue.

Unfortunately, that backfired.

I swatted the Great Insect off her dress - but its foot was stuck in the embroidery. So it ended up jumping off her skirt...and onto her bodice.  Her bodice. Her big brown cartoon eyes and her wide open mouth turned towards me with a scream and look full of fear, confusion, and hatred.


After my 3rd attempt, I was finally able to flick it off her body, and onto the grass.

She wanted me to pick her up - but she couldn't stand due to wobbly legs from fear/crying.
I would have happily held her - but I couldn't stand due to wobbly legs and an inability-to-breathe from laughing until I cried.

With some therapy, she may forgive me.
She may also be unable to go camping for the rest of her life.
Oh well.
Now her scream stories have started.

And that, is a sweet moment.

~Whitney
 Copyright 2012

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