Murder Moth Foul

They just make the top ten in my list of phobias and I can cope with small ones but last night there were three in the bathroom that all had small engines. I didn't notice them until I sat down and they didn't move, at first.

I blame SO (my significant other) he not only left the bathroom light on like a bloody lighthouse beacon, he also left the bathroom window open thus affording the winged instruments open passage to their own laser light show, in this case the brace of spotlights.

I wasn't terribly comfortable knowing they were there but I didn't reach the blood curdling yell stage until the biggest one who I swear looked at me with beady eyes and fangs, took of from his position on the tiled wall by the bath. All I could do was close my eyes and cover my face. Of course I felt the batter of his wings against my hair and let out a scream worthy of the hapless victim in a horror romp. SO having managed to extract himself from the telly, bounced up the stairs full of concern. "What's wrong?" he proffered, "I'll tell you what's delete the expletive wrong!, get those delete the expletive, winged delete the expletive out of here now!" replied I.

By this stage I had gathered up a significant wodge of bog roll and was using it to stifle my screams. SO had become the caped crusader complete with shoe box and magazine and was able to capture the largest of the beasts and release it out the bathroom window. I hurriedly made my escape to the bedroom only returning to complete my bed time ablutions when I assumed the coast was clear. The coast might have been clear but the bathroom wasn't; as I was leaning over the wash basin a winged terror rose from behind a tube of facial scrub like a harrier jump jet the buzz of its wings sending a trickle of fear running down my spine. I realised later that the buzz may have been from my toothbrush. I made my escape to the darkness of my bedroom and yelled down to captain comatose that he better get up the stairs pronto and get rid of mothman otherwise my prophecy was that he would be sleeping on the sofa - SO not mothman.

I realise my fear is wholly irrational and that those poor wee creatures would not harm me but the blattering of their wings creates a chaos theory in my head and no amount of cognitive behavioural therapy is going to shift it.

As I said to SO if spiders had wings then he would perhaps understand how I feel. Of course if moths came equipped with false teeth, I would be dead if I had the wit to stiffen ...gibber.