Millicent’s Relationship with the Insect World

Okay, so the original Millicent Frastley, before I came skipping along the scene, was a privileged, yet unfortunate child in an Edward Gorey poem who comes to an absolutely horrible end – as children often do in Edward Gorey poems. In the one about Millicent Frastley, she is kidnapped and sacrificed to The Insect God. Pretty, huh? That Edward Gorey was a hoot.

My relationship with the insect world has left me in a state that the experts would refer to as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Brought about by Bugs. Oooooh, that last part was a little alliteration. I love those. Anyway, back to bugs. I hate them. Yes, there are good ones that get rid of the bad bugs, but they all can send me pretty much reeling into a screaming state followed by catatonia and occasional moaning. I like lizards (because they eat bugs) and I have no issue with snakes, mice, et al….but bugs are bad. Very, very bad. Said bugs extend to the ocean floor, where the land equivalents of spiders, cockroaches and beetles roam about bottom feeding – or feeding on bottoms, or whatever, namely crab, shrimp and the worst offender…Lobster. I had a bad experience with lobster once where my friends went on a dive and we were to have a great big ole feed. One of the people at the party drowned them in fresh water first so she didn’t have to hear them screaming in the pot of boiling water. Gelatinous mess, probably toxic, I never went back.

Example: (And single most embarrassing moment in my life to this point) – I was eleven years old, and the school that I went to was suffering from an inexplicable infestation of blue bottle flies. I think it was due to the presence of the unholy beast passing herself off as human that taught the 5th grade. Mrs. Iron. Anyway, the school answer to the pestilence was to hang No Pest Strips in all the classrooms. Every day, the boys in the class would count the flies. Dead and Alive. They sang a little song along with their counting, but the ditty is too painful to remember now. The morning of my worst day ever had a fly count of 152. Dead and alive. Ever heard a dying fly? An intermittent buzz, followed by the futile flapping of wings.

Sooooooo, the classroom had some creative project that we were hanging from the ceiling to display for Parent Teacher night. Yours truly was standing on top a file cabinet, attaching the fruits of our labors to the ceiling. My hair at that time was down to my waist. Do you see where this is going? I think you do. Anyway, a mere two strands of hair managed to float up and stick to the No Pest Strip without my knowledge. When I jumped down from the cabinet, I heard a snap, felt something attach to my head...and start to intermittently buzz. Of course the fly paper couldn’t just lie flat on the surface of my hair. No, it had managed to work its way completely into my hair. The boy I had my first crush on was rolling on the floor laughing. I was sent to the principal’s office, who promptly called my mother and told her that she would have to shave my head. Mother came down to the school, hustled me home and through a series of scientific experiments with various solvents – paint thinner, shellac remover, fingernail polish remover, etc….the mess was finally stripped from my hair, leaving it a few shades lighter in the process. That 3M Company definitely knows how to make things stick. I finally made it back to school only to find a paper crown left upon my desk that said, “Queen Klutz.”

Tomorrow, perhaps I’ll tell you the story about the giant potato bugs in the basement.