It was a normal, sunny day in the land of Wojo. And in her home office, our heroine was reading through some notes on her desk, preparing to write a story. The townspeople—AKA her two dogs—were sleeping peacefully at her feet. It was a good day.
Until it arrived…
ZOOOOOOOMMMM…FLAP, FLAP, FLAP!
Out of seemingly nowhere came a moth. But this wasn’t just any moth. With a wingspan of about eight feet, this gigantic moth flew past our heroine’s face, startling her.
Let’s go to Wojo now for a firsthand account:
Like they said, I was just minding my own business, when suddenly the biggest moth in the history of humankind flew out—from where I still don’t know—and zoomed like a shot right past my face.
I know they said it had an eight-foot wide wingspan, but I’m guessing it was more like 7,264 feet. My husband said that something like that couldn’t fit in our house. Mr. Rational. But he wasn’t here when it first made an appearance, so I’m going with my gut on this one.
First—let me say that, by and large, I’m not afraid of bugs. Unless they sting. If they are stinging bugs, then I am afraid of them.
Oh, and camel crickets. Do you know what they are? They are horrifying. Take a look here–eek! I get the chills just looking at them. We get them in our basement in the summer. And they jump—like they’re jumping right out of a horror flick and into my face!
Dang—there’s one other kind of bug I’m scared of: Huge ones. Like the ones that people post about on social media. While I have friends who live in Australia, they never seem to encounter bugs of this size. Yet most of these extra-large bugs are said to come from there. And, well, they scare the bejeezus out of me. I won’t be heading to Australia any time soon. Shudder…
So, I guess I am scared of some bugs. But I’ve never been scared of a moth.
Until now…
Because this moth was sneaky. It would fly down into my face, just enough for me to freak out and yell. Then, while I was running around, waving my arms, and screaming for my husband, it just disappeared. Seriously—it was like it went “poof” and just wasn’t there anymore.
My husband kept coming up to grab it for me (we try as much as possible to “catch-and-release” the bugs in our home. Unless they sting…or are camel crickets…or huge).
Every time he set foot into my office, Mothra, as I was calling it, vanished.
I was being gas-lighted by a moth.
Why couldn’t it be stupid like other moths and fly around the lights on my ceiling fan? Why couldn’t it go for the light of the open window? Why couldn’t it fly near my computer screen? Anywhere where we could see it?
Because Mothra was out to get me.
Here’s how it went: Mothra flies into my face. I scream. I run out of my home office. My husband comes in. Mothra is gone.
Repeat about a dozen times.
As for my dogs—they were excited that evidently something was going on, as I kept hopping in and out of my chair and running out of my office, then slinking back in. But it’s not like they were going to protect me. They certainly weren’t looking for the largest moth in the universe.
After about 30 minutes of this—Mothra swooping, my husband searching, nothing, over and over again—Mothra made a mistake. It landed right on my desk.
I didn’t think I was a killer. Yet I raised a book in my right hand slowly, then brought it down with a crash onto the desk.
I didn’t want to pick it up. I felt bad. Supposed it had a moth family that would miss him if he didn’t return home that night. Little moth children so upset that daddy never came back.
I slowly picked up the book.
Mothra wasn’t there.
My husband came in a few minutes later. “Hey, you know that moth you couldn’t find? It flew out into the hall, and landed on the wall. I caught it and let it out the front door.”
I don’t know how my husband fit a moth with an eight-foot wingspan into his hands. But I didn’t want to ask questions.
I just knew that he had made a mistake. Mothra was out there.
It would return. But next time, I will be ready.
Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not freaking out that Mothra is going to return to her office and get stuck in her hair, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.
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