The other night, as I was heading to bed, I made my usual stop at the thermostat to crank up the air conditioning. This is a nightly ritual for me, right after I check the locks, turn off the lights, and plant a kiss on my son’s sleeping head. As my finger hovered over the touch-screen button, my mind was preoccupied with the new book I had just bought, desperately hoping it was by my bedside and not in the front seat of my car.
In my routine trance, I was ready to hit the button when my eyes drifted up and… BAM! A scorpion was perched on the wall-mounted thermostat, just an inch from my finger and eye level. It was wriggling its ghastly yellow tail, sending waves of disgust through me. My heart practically skipped a beat.
You have no idea how much I abhor these creepy critters. If there’s a word stronger than hate, that’s what I feel. Sure, I know they’re part of this world, but they’re just so unsettling. Judge if you want, but I swear if every scorpion vanished in a dramatic, painful way, I wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it. I’d lead a chorus of fellow scorpion-haters in jubilant songs of liberation, tossing out our black lights and reclaiming our right to roam barefoot in our homes during Arizona’s sweltering summers.
But alas, the scorpion population thrives, and here it was, ruining my peaceful evening. I was petrified, but I distinctly heard myself let out a long, drawn-out expletive.
You might be thinking, “Really? You’ve lived in this house for a decade. You’ve encountered a scorpion or two each summer; this isn’t a surprise.” You’re absolutely correct; however, the twist is, I was married during those summers, and now I’m not. Being married meant I could scream, then summon my partner for a decisive stomp with his size 11 cowboy boot. If I was alone, I’d trap the creature under a box and leave the aftermath for later.
Now, months into single life, this scorpion was my ultimate post-divorce challenge. Juggling work and my whirlwind of a son? Adjusting finances? Swallowing disappointment and resentment to set a good example for my kid? Those were minor tests. This wall-crawling menace embodied all my insecurities about being a single mom, making me question if I could truly handle life on my own. This scorpion was my final exam.
I needed to conquer this challenge. I am woman, hear me roar… or at the very least, hear me fight back the nausea rising in my throat. I dashed to my closet, surveyed my shoe options, and chose a sturdy platform wedge before returning to confront my foe. ONE (deep breath), TWO (prepare the shoe), THREE (stop counting, Lucy, or you’ll crumble), GO!
I knocked that little terror off the thermostat and onto the floor. It tried to scuttle away, but I was in it to win it. Forget the freedom songs; what escaped my lips was a primal battle cry—AY-YAY-AY-YAY! I swung that black patent platform wedge like it was a mighty axe, as if my life depended on it. Because, honestly, it did.
The scorpion met its end on the first strike, but I delivered two more blows just to be sure it wouldn’t rise again like some arachnid zombie. Three thwacks, and this scorpion was history.
Yes! Victory was mine! I began my little victory dance (which, let me tell you, closely resembles a wedding dance gone wrong) when I heard a worried voice behind me.
“Mom, did you get it?”
I turned to find my son standing there in his pajamas, eyes wide and anxious. He shares my disdain for scorpions.
“I got it, buddy. I was terrified, but I got it.”
He relaxed, smiling. “Good job protecting us, Mom! You are a killer of scorpions!”
My little cheerleader rushed over for a hug. I reminded myself of the mantra I tell him often: Being brave doesn’t mean you aren’t scared. It means facing that fear head-on.
With my arm around him, I glanced at my right hand still clutching the scorpion-slaying shoe.
I can do this. I can be brave. I am a killer of scorpions.
This article was originally published on July 16, 2013.
For more inspiring stories and insights, check out our privacy policy at Intracervical Insemination. And if you’re exploring options for starting a family, Cryobaby provides excellent resources to help guide you. Plus, learn more about the IVF process through this insightful article.
Summary
This humorous narrative recounts a single mom’s intense encounter with a scorpion, reflecting on her fears and triumphs as she navigates life after divorce. It serves as a reminder that bravery often involves facing our fears, even when they come in creepy crawly forms.