In the blackness of early morning, I headed to the kitchen. My vision is darkened all the time so when it’s dark for you, it’s doubly so for me. I turned the dimmer light on low, I’ve gotten good at maneuvering without light, and headed directly to the Keurig.
While that was warming up, I began to put dishes away. And then I saw it. A black bug about 2″ long in the bottom of the sink. I instinctively and somewhat panickedly (not a real word, just go with me this one time) moved the faucet nozzle directly over the creature and turned the water on full power.
The monster moved before the water even hit it and for a nanosecond I felt bad for it. The intruder had shriveled to a third of its size but was still moving. I kept the water running . . . and then, now wide awake and operating on all cylinders, it hit me.
The same thing had happened on Saturday. Then I had called my husband in from the other room to save me, translation: remove the carcass after I had slain the demon. He came into the kitchen, walked to the sink, looked in and said:
The same plant that I had heralded a few weeks ago in the post titled The Gift Of The Christmas Cactus was dropping its blooms from the window sill above the kitchen sink.
Sometimes my visual impairment really gets me down. Other times, it’s pretty damn funny.