Picture this: You and your family are heading out the door to go partake in one of man's greatest creations; Taco Bell. You've been craving it for weeks, and you've been able to save every penny found to go and splurge on this delectable cuisine. You can almost taste it as you walk towards the car. It's a beautiful fall night and you and your husband are laughing and joking about something very unimportant.
Then. Out of NO WHERE.
You walk head first into a gigantic, and I mean mountainous, cloud of large gnats. If you know me really well, or if you have been in my presence outside at all, you know I have a real phobia of flying bugs. Anything flying. Moths, for crying out loud, make me shriek and act like a 6 year old school girl. It's pretty pathetic.
Not ONLY did I walk head first into this gargantuan sized cloud of very large gnats...BUT...
ONE. MADE. IT. INTO. MY.
I cannot imagine a worse place for a huge bug to get stuck, other than your ear. If one gets in your mouth, you can either: A) Spit it out quickly, or B) Swallow it and picture it dying in your stomach acids. If one get's in your nose, you just start blowing out air like your life depends on it. And it DOES.
But in your eye? And it's not where someone else can see it. Oh no. It's lodged itself underneath the eye lid. Not on the top, OR the bottom. In the outer corner.
I'm sitting in the car by now. I'm literally freaking out. My husband has never seen me like this. I have never seen myself like this. Not only is there a flying bug on me, it's INSIDE of me, still alive, IN MY EYE!
I am hyperventilating.
I am screaming.
I am punching myself in. the. eye.
Do not laugh! It was the most horrible bug experience I have ever had.
My husband is telling me to "keep on blinking, that's what you are supposed to do, roll your eye around, you are doing exactly what you supposed to be doing." He was so calm.
FINALLY. After the most agonizing hour of my life (okay, maybe more like 90 seconds) the bug is dead and flops out onto my cheek bone. I'm not sure if it died from the blows it got from me punching myself in the eye, or if it died out of sheer terror from being inside the most insane lady ever. Whatever. It's dead.
After this extraordinarily disgusting and traumatic experience, my eye is completely fine (save for the memory of having a bug walking around in it) and I now know just how much my family loves me. After that episode, I'm very blessed they didn't walk the other way and pretend they didn't know that crazy lady who had just escaped from the mental hospital.