I Killed That

Yes, that is a scorpion.  I hate scorpions.  In my opinion they are offspring of the devil and are only on the earth to do his evil bidding.  I had yet to meet a scorpion face to face until a few nights ago when this guy met his ultimate demise. The story goes like this:  Mike was working late and I had grilled hot dogs for the girls and myself for dinner.  The hot dogs were eaten, the dishes put away, and after the sun went down, the girls were snoozing in their beds while I was lounging on the couch watching tv.  Around 11:00 I decided to head off to bed when a panicked thought crossed my mind, Did I turn the grill off?  I went to the back door ready to run out into the darkness with my bare feet when another thought went through my brain, I hope I don't step on anything gross (i.e. june bugs or spiders....scorpions weren't even in my thoughts).  I slipped on some nearby flip flops and turned on the porch light.  I ran outside, saw that the grill was in fact off, then turned around and headed back to the door.  

And there it was.  Staring at me with it's evil pinchers and it's tail curled up ready to sting me out of spite (I'm sure). Now, granted he wasn't a huge scorpion, but big enough for me to actually scream, run inside and slam the door as if he was in hot pursuit of me.  I quickly looked around my kitchen for something heavy.  A stock pot?  No, it's new and shouldn't have scorpion guts on it.  I couldn't cook pasta in it again without cringing.  A heavy cookbook?  No, that's gross.  Then I saw my broom propped up against the wall.  Maybe if I turned it upside down and used the handle? It was worth a try, so I grabbed it and ran outside.  The demonic scorpion was still there poised and ready to deliver some pain. I raised my broom up and started maniacally stabbing at it.  My first try was a direct hit.  The scorpion attempted to limp away, but my quick broom handling skills prevented him from getting anywhere.  At this point my apparent subconscious psycho killer personality came out and I think I stabbed the poor scorpion a few more times than was necessary to do the job.  But I eventually came to and realized he was dead.  As a doornail.  I did it!  I thought to myself. Then I looked at the broom handle and saw all the guts. One Clorox wipe later, it was as good as new.  

I left the carcass out on the porch to show Mike and the girls the next day.  They were all very impressed and slightly concerned at my apparent joy over the scorpion's death.  Just call me Emily "Scorpion Killer" Galloway from now on.

Thanks.