It is revenge.
All those worms,
and fish that I dissected this year in biology are back to haunt. And is it a coincidence that my science books were at the site of the crime? I THINK NOT!
Here's what happened....
It was late last night, and I was immersed under the waves of sleep. My mind and body were completely shut down after a long night of babysitting, but that is another story altogether. From beyond my unconcious mind, my body felt an itch. I wiggled my arm. A little later, I felt one on my leg. I turned on my other side. Finally, my mind decided to turn on the light. I reached up over my head...and the huge metal reading light fell on my head. I groaned like a discontented zombie and fell back into sleep.
Maybe half an hour later, i felt another itch on my arm. I shifted in bed. Then, an itch on my neck. And, was it just my dreamy state, or was the itch...crawling? I decided to chance head injury and turned on the light. The good news: The lamp stayed put. THE BAD NEWS: I wasn't alone in bed.
I looked down to see tiny red specks crawling all over my arms and covers. I turned my head, and right next to where my hair pooled on the pillows a fountain of ants errupted from the crack between my matress and concrete wall. "ANTS!" I yelled in my head, and scrambled off. Then, I realized the meaning of "ants in your pants".
The buggers were crawling all over inside and outside my PJ's. I did a wild little dance while ripping my PJs off and throwing them on the floor. From the crumpled heap, Eyore looked up at me from my night shirt. "I told you ants would come."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "You also said that snakes, tarantulas, and resurrected dinosaurs would infest my room." I quickly sneaked a peek around my room. No velociraptors.
"Oh ...well. (sigh...). I suppose you are going to put us in that washer again? (sigh....)."
"You betcha, Buster!" I held him delicatly away from me and carried hime to the laundry room.
I returned to the site of disasster, ready to find my inner Indiana Jones and vanquish the ants. I filled trash bag after trash bag full of ant-y covers, pillows and sheets and lugged the bags upstairs and onto the front porch. (By the way, I put a new pair of PJs on.)
It was 3:00 in the morning when I finished and my bed was gone. The ants were struggling to get away as I chased then around a squished them with old tissues. "Noooo!" i imagined them screaming as they silently were snuffed out. They weren't done with me yet, though. The buggers were crawling through my hair and I ran upstairs and stuck my head under the sink. The buggy blaggards disappeared and I squised the last one with my hair brush.
After hours of cold, restless sleep on the living room couch in revealing red shorts, the morning came. So did the realization that I HATE BUGS!
So, bio textbook, I get the message. I warn you though, if you do anything to my final grade, I will BURN you. Lets see my textbook try any more revenge tactics, now.