OH, WHAT A NIGHT!

It actually began about a week ago. I was assembling something and needed to use a drill. While I was digging around in the plastic shoebox where I store my assorted drills and drivers, up popped a scorpion, ready for war.

My daughter has had more than one painful sting, so I got out my bug killer, the gallon jug, and the sprayer wouldn’t work. I always have an empty spray bottle around, so I poured some from the big bottle into a smaller one. I gave the scorpion a soaking, and it died. I disposed of the body outside.

Then, two nights ago, I was ready to go to bed when I saw a scorpion standing next to my nightstand. I stomped him.

He didn’t care.

When I picked up my foot, he ran under the bed.

Oh, boy!

I looked up scorpions on the internet. It seems they only need an eighth of an inch opening to get in, and they’re nocturnal. Whoopie!

My little guy’s picture was on the page, light brown and about three inches long, he’s evidently an Arizona Bark Scorpion, the only deadly one in this country. That made me feel special in an unwanted way.

The like to hide under and inside things. While the sting is usually horribly painful, it can be treated with soap and water and a bag of frozen peas, unless you’re allergic to the venom, in which case, you can die. DIE!! Unfortunately, the only way to find out if you’re allergic, is to be stung.

There was no way I could sleep in a bed knowing a live scorpion of that species was right under it, so I went to the guest room, which looks like an episode of “Hoarders.” After moving a bunch of stuff and putting sheets on the twin-size bed, I tried to go to sleep.

Let me tell you, a twin bed just doesn’t cut it for me, my medium-sized dog, and two cats. After wriggling around trying to make a place for myself, I gave it up and went to the living room. I don’t have a full-sized sofa, only a love seat. I couldn’t stretch out on it, but gave it a try. My dog, Abigail, looked at me as if I’d betrayed her and lay down on the little doggie bed in the corner.

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I was still wide awake, so I watched “The Heat,” with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy. It was really funny for someone like me, who lives for “throwaway” lines. Kudos to the writers.

I was increasingly goofy, but still not sleepy. I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. When I flipped on the light, another scorpion was on the floor under the sink. He looked just like the last one. Was he a relation, or had he migrated from my bedroom? I wasn’t taking any chances, so instead of stomping on him, I chopped him into three pieces with a spatula. That’ll teach him to come inside my house.

Even more wide awake than ever at three a.m., I stretched back in my reading-nook recliner in the bedroom where the scorpion was possibly still romping. An episode of “Antiques Roadshow” is a reliable sedative, and I finally fell asleep at around four.

In the morning, I called the “Bug Guy” and told him I needed someone with scorpion specialties, and booked a date for the next day.

I still wasn’t about to get in that bed, so I slept another night in the recliner. The cats and the dog had no such fears. They spent a comfortable night in the scorpion bed.

When I got up this morning, I shook out my clothes before I dressed, peered into the toes of my shoes, and tried not to touch anything where the monster might be lurking underneath.

“Bug Guy” was here bright and early, sprayed the garage, the house, and the outside, and promised to be back next month.

The bug spray will have about fourteen hours to soak in, so I plan on sleeping in my usual spot, but I’ll change the sheets first. Maybe I’ll even turn the mattress and box over and examine them before I go to sleep.

Probably not.

I live in trust, a somewhat fearful trust, but still . . ..