My son was in the kitchen snacking on some blue corn chips. He handed me a few and I bit down on one.
“All good at school?” I crunched at him.
“Yeah, all good….Oh!” and he indicated to something on my shirt.
I glanced down and saw a dark butterfly-shape near my chest. I hate moths, I don’t know why, and I especially don’t like moths on me.
Slowly, I opened the drawer and reached for a napkin.
My son was transfixed. I know he can get nervous, so I tried to keep very calm. I took a slow, deep inhale and as I exhaled I swiped at the moth, crushed it in the napkin, threw it on the ground with a triumphant scream, and stomped on the intruder.
I beamed at my son, proud of my cool. His face was pure puzzlement.
“Mama, what are you doing?! That was a nacho.”
“Oh, no! THAT was a moth!”
Well, at least I showed that nacho who is boss in my house.