You know that scene in Psycho . . . when the woman's in the shower . . . and then the knife comes hacking down . . . and the blood circles the drain . . . and the freaky screeching music is playing in the background.
Yeah, that was reenacted tonight in my bathroom.
You see, the shower part was the same . . . but instead of a knife or blood, it was the most gigantic scorpion I've ever seen! And I knew one of us wasn't going to make it out of the tub alive.
I got back to go Galmi this morning, and while it should be as hot the inside of your oven, the rains have come unseasonably early, which means the heat isn't as bad as it could be, but the humidity is raging.
And that calls for multiple showers a day. A necessary task for survival.
As I went to take today's third, I opened my bathroom door, quickly slammed it shut and ran to find my lifetime supply of insecticide. Armed with creepy-crawly death spray, I slowly inched the door open again.
Just inside was a black and white spotted beetle whose body was the size of a thumb. I aerosolized the life out of that bug. And once it was safe again to enter the bathroom, I went in and naïvely believed that my six-legged sorrows were dead in the corner.
Little did I know what was lurking in the drain . . . waiting.
In life outside of Niger, one lets the water run to reach the optimal temperature before stepping under. In Galmi during Hot Season, the water is only wonderful for the first few seconds, before it becomes hot, so it's necessary to be strategically positioned beneath the water's flow.
Which is why I was in the line of danger when my assailant took me by surprise.
Now, I've had four other scorpions in my house since I moved here in 2011 . . . the first one even got me! But they've all been on the smaller side . . . but this one, this one was HUGE! A daddy-scorpion for sure . . . but they say that the males don't sting, and this one definitely had a blade at the end of his tail . . . so momma-scorpion, then.
I had just gotten wet by the time she slithered up that drain. I didn't even have time to soap up first.
Now, I'm no track athlete, but I'm sure I set some sort of Galmi record for the high jump tonight!
Once out of the tub, I attempted to refrain myself from screaming or swearing and located my insect-killer that I had put away after the beetle incident. I dripped my way back into the bathroom for my second termination of the night. I'm pretty sure I used half a bottle trying to take her out.
She skidded across the bottom of my tub as she stabbed her stinger into the air. At times she coiled her claws around herself and twisted up her spine before the rigidity took over.
As I washed her down the drain, a thought came to me: THIS IS WHAT HUSBANDS ARE FOR!