I left the house later than normal this morning. I was basking in the cheerful patterns of sunlight on the wood floors, the crisp fall breeze through the screens, and my Ann Taylor sweater that I've waited all summer to wear. I had keys in hand, giant purse over shoulder and yanked the kitchen door open, singing to my heart's content. Singing; its a weird embarrassing thing I only indulge in when completely alone in the house. This morning I was belting "Somebody to Love" by Queen, and not doing it very well.
But I wasn't alone.
I opened the door and turned, singing, directly into a strange man's face.
I screamed louder.
He stumbled backwards, off the steps and sprawled on the concrete.
I threw my purse and cell phone and began to slam the door as hard as I could... before I realized the man laying prostrate on our carport was the friendly neighborhood bug man.
He was there for our monthly inspection, his poor mustache quivering and his face ashen from the shock of my shrieks.
If I hadn't been trying so hard to not pee my pants, I would have felt sorry for him. And just think; to add salt into his wound, he had also been subjected to my version of Freddy Mercury. My thoughts drifted to the great Boo Catastrophe and I realized I'd received my cosmic comeuppance.
In other more pressing news, my friend Deanna is having a fantabulous giveaway on her blog. I don't usually go giveaway crazy, but this one I'm excited about. Be sure to check it out and have a great weekend. Watch out for bug men.