As in...Michael Myers.
That's right. He just wouldn't die and he had me terrified.
As I was getting Monkey ready for her bath, I saw movement in my peripheral vision.
Kind of odd, considering there is just a Monkey and Me in the bathroom (shudder).
As I was pulling Monkey's shirt off over her head I glanced over and saw "Michael" crawling across the cabinet.
For those of you new to my germaphobe issues/reptile phobia's/arachnid phobia's and lots of other issues, I don't do well with all things creepy.
It just so happened that the testosterone filled species in my house were....not....in my house at that moment.
I grabbed Monkey and quickly scooted into the hallway.
I was holding her close (bath water still running) and trying to decide what to do.
I still didn't know what Michael was. My first thought was that he was a spider, but as I stole a quick glance around the corner, I was able to count six legs, so I knew he couldn't be a spider. What I didn't know is if he possessed any ninja qualities that might enable him to leap six feet faster than the speed of light and start the process of reducing my life span.
Heart pounding, I put Monkey on the floor and slipped into the bathroom long enough to turn off the water.
At that point I decided to grab the camera.
It was the very least I could for my family.
I didn't want them to come home and find me vaporized on the hallway floor and not know what happened to me.
Really...I was only thinking of how to forgo a lengthy crime scene investigation.
After snapping a quick picture in which I was certain he would be sitting on the top of the lens when I pulled the camera away from my face...I resorted to our trusty Dyson.
I plugged the Dyson in without taking my eyes from Michael, took the hose off, and incorporated my handy dandy math skills in order to calculate just how far back and around the corner I could stand and still get close enough to Michael with the hose of the Dyson to successfully embed his blood thirsty body into the Dyson canister.
As Monkey was holding onto my legs, I directed the hose around the corner....and closed my eyes.
I waited for the stomach churning sound of Michael zooming through the hose before making landfall at the bottom of the canister that hadn't been emptied from the morning vacuuming.
I shut the vacuum off, quickly returned the hose (because I knew he must be climbing out of the hose at that point), unplugged it so that he couldn't use his electrical psychic abilities to turn the Dyson against me and backed away.
I bent down and tried my best to see if I could find Michael...hovering, hockey mask and all in the debris of the canister.
Hmmm...nothing.
Errr....at that point I started panicking because I didn't know where he was.
I grabbed Monkey and was just about to grab the Dyson to take it outside to the porch when I saw movement.
That's right.
He survived the plunge into the Dyson and was trying to find his way out!
By then, I was getting ticked.
How dare he invade my home and personal space...and what was he anyway?
When I was fairly certain that it would take him longer to crawl out of the vacuum than it would take me to give Chunk a bath, I proceeded to take care of Monkey...the entire time I was looking around...absolutely certain that Michael's family would be creeping out of the woodwork at any moment!
How horrible!
I just couldn't handle the thought of getting close to Michael again, so I got my husband on the phone.
I thanked him (and Julien) profusely for not being available to rescue his wife and daughter at that moment and proceeded to tell him that his job immediately upon walking in the door was to remove Michael from our home in whatever manner he deemed necessary.
Let's just say that according to my husband Michael is now occupying the local landfill....but I don't plan on taking a nude evening swim in any local lake anytime soon....just in case.
