Ah the life of a moth. In particular, the moth that took up residency in my bathroom recently.
I first encountered the moth, Moth-ra, Satan’s Preferred Irritant, several days ago in my bathroom. I was brushing my teeth and noticed Moth-man, the Understudy fluttering around, rearranging the dust on my bathtub. I ignored him, thinking he’d just die and I’d wash him down the drain.
The next day, I was assaulted by a large fly, which I killed in self-defense using a washcloth. Moth-beast was a witness, but I knew he wouldn’t squeal.
This morning I was enjoying my morning shower, only to be joined by Moth-Perve. He endured a good soaking before making a speedy exit from the shower. He was unseen until this evening.
As I attempted to locate a lost hole in my ear, I was attacked by the Moth-Perp. He went straight for my eyes! I shrieked, exited the bathroom, shrieked some more and checked my shirt for any new inhabitants. After consoling my frightened breasts, I was assured that there was no one else in my shirt. The audio went something like this:
Me, exiting the bathroom: shriek! shriek!
Godfather: “…Moth?”
Me: “…Mebbe.”
He then proceeded to make the Moth-Man an offer he couldn’t refuse. A handout, if you will. I still can’t find that damn hole…