This morning I brought a live cicada into the house when I went out to open up the chicken coop. Imagine my joy upon discovering this massive insect attached to the pocket of my cargo pants, when my cat, Scooter, started sniffing at it. I think the neighbors three blocks away heard me scream.
I jumped off the sofa, brushing wildly at my pocket and screaming like a crazy person. Leo hadn't seen the cicada, and thought that I had finally cracked up.
Leo, being my official Knight In Shining Armor In Charge Of All Insect Activity In Our Home, hunted for that thing for about ten minutes, until he finally stood up, put his hands on his hips and said, "I just can't find it. I'm sorry. I don't know where else to look."
And then he turned around and...it was on his back. It was like every series on the Sci-Fi channel (inexplicably and stupidly renamed just "Syfy"), where there's at least one show with a creepy giant bug attached to the back of one of the characters. They can't see it, but it causes terrible things to happen. "Dr. Who," "Sliders," "Star Trek," "Angel," they've all done it. And here was my real-life version playing out before my very eyes.
I said, "Uuuuuuuuhngh! It's on your back."
To his credit, Leo didn't freak out, he didn't scream like a girl. In a split-second moment, we were acting in perfect harmony. I ran to the door and opened it and Leo, walking very gingerly, hoping not to disturb the giant creature, lest we lose it in the house, went out onto the patio and took off his shirt, shaking it just enough so the cicada flew to safety.
The cicada is a giant bug, maybe the biggest we have here in Indiana, and this is the time of year when they are the noisiest and the most abundant. Thus, as a bug phobic, this is my least favorite time of year, for obvious reasons. I dare say that Leo will be opening the chicken coop for the next month or so.
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