Unexpected Horrors

When I was a child I used to love to play with snakes, frogs, caterpillars (particularly the kind that turned into monarch butterflies), and once even a detached squirrel tail my sister found in the yard. We loved that thing, but even that couldn't compare to the fondness we had for roly polys. Ah many a summer we spent creating homes and mazes for our many-legged friends. We'd get in trouble for taking stuff out of the garbage to build mansions for them, we'd pretend they were having babies, we'd take them inside and place them on our jungle gym. Poor things. 

Justin is well aware of the many memories I've recounted to him surrounding my fascination with these jolly little bugs. When we moved into our house he discovered a nest of roly polys in that weird sprinkler box that most back yards have. Countless times he encouraged me to go lift the top off and pet the hoard of friends I would undoubtedly find there. 

Many a days passed and just this last weekend in the blazing sun Justin removed the top of the roly poly factory to reveal an atrocity. Black widows... Everywhere. Like 50 at least not counting the egg sacks. Imagine my near pooping pants experience as we attempted to spray them with poison. They resisted because they are such foul beasts. We went to plan B which included a tea kettle and pot full of boiling water. Being as those bastards likely come straight from hell I'm not sure if they survived the whole fiasco. Probably. And now they are probably peeping over my shoulder as I write this planning my death.