Moth Debacle

This morning David left to go out of town for a couple of days. Not surprisingly, yesterday I noticed Sarah had a little bit of a cough, which last night got a lot worse and we listened to her coughing half the night. So, I'm on my own with a sickly but sweet kiddo for the weekend, meanwhile it is raining unceasingly outside. Thankfully, I think I've got enough provisions to get us through the weekend, and staying-in in our PJs all weekend doesn't sound too bad, especially in this weather.

Anyway, I put on a Blue's Clues for Sarah to watch so I could throw together a quick casserole for us to eat for lunch/most other meals this weekend. I was almost done, when the program ended. This of course meant poor, sickly, clingy Sarah suddenly glued to my knees as I am trying to get the casserole done. No big deal though. Just one more step--putting the bread crumbs on top.

So, I get the bread crumb canister out of the pantry, and lift it angled above the casserole ready to pour. I remove the plastic lid, and immediately I am struck that there is something not right. The top of the canister has these stringy strings and . . . then I see . .

THE CANISTER IS FULL OF MOTHS AND MOTH LARVAE!

And of course, suddenly the moths are flying in my face and swarming my kitchen. This is unacceptable, so I launch myself toward the trash can, and manage to open it, hurl the bread crumb canister in, and close the lid in exactly 0.045 seconds. Unfortunately, in my haste, I knock poor Sarah to the ground and then semi-trample her.

We retreat to the living room, where I hold and comfort my now thoroughly traumatized toddler for a solid 10 minutes, meanwhile all I can think about is the moth colony now residing in my trash can and how I am going to get it out of my house.

Once Sarah has returned to her senses, I begin by placing her in her high chair in another room--if there is one thing we have learned it is sick kid plus moths plus hysterical mother equals nothing good. Snacks are given to appease her for a couple of minutes.

Step two, putting my hair up in a bun. This may seem strange, but one reason I can't stand moths is that they fly in your hair and get all tangled and ugh . . . typing this is creeping me out! Yuck! So, hair up is a must.

Then, I return to the kitchen. One of the moths is gleefully making a new home for himself in my flour canister, which was open at the time of the "incident." After several attempts and much flour flying all over my kitchen, I catch him and add him to the others in the trash bin.

Then I notice the BIG ONE. Sitting on the windowsill is one humongous, hairy, spotted, disgusting moth. The monster was seriously like 2 inches long, and it was fat and I think I already said it but I will say it again HAIRY. Thankfully, using the screen and the sliding windows I was able to get it technically out of my kitchen. However, it is still sitting just outside the window on the ledge--either mocking me or plotting its return or, most likely, just dumbfounded to be separated from the rest of his colony and wondering what exactly this wet, cold world is he has been thrust into. Yeah, that's probably more likely. Moths are annoying, but they aren't really very smart.

Now, to deal with the trashcan. I am able to loose the bag, and quickly grasp it closed. No moths escaped, which I credit to their enjoyment of the two (TWO!) full loaves of bread at the bottom of the bag, from the epic baking failure of the previous day. I tie up the bag, and notice several small holes in the body of the bag. Cursing cheap Asian garbage bags (Hefty?? Where were you today??), I run through my apartment and deposit the bag outside our door in the hallway. At least the moths can escape there and not in my actual home. I realize that this is not a complete solution, but remember--rain, pajamas, sole caretaker of sick toddler alone in the house--the trash is just going to have to sit there till I can take it down to the trash bins later.

Whew. Thankfully, both my casserole and, as far as I can tell, my flour managed to survive without any moths are larvae making permanent homes there. Now I am going to go shower to get rid of the moth heeby-jeebies!

[By the way, I realize this story constitutes NOTHING in terms of husband-out-of-town-disasters--my friends Alisa and Kayla have some doosies, and I am sure many of my other friends too. This story is merely amusing, thankfully, and not fully traumatic! But if this weekend makes a turn in that direction, I will let you know.]