Guess what was on our sliding glass door in the back? Where we come in? That I. Have. To. Touch! I made Ryan open the door. And ran in while holding my arms close to my body. And shivered and squealed and generally made a fool of myself. If we had one, I would have stood on a chair.
I can barely bring myself to tell the story of our holiday in a "caravan" in Wales where Kelli and I shared what was probably a twin bed in a room maybe four feet across and when we pressed up against the window we saw. a. SLUG! INSIDE THE WINDOW. Three inches from our bed. We ran out screaming and my little sister and her friend ran out of their cupboard, I mean room, and started screaming and my mom and older sister started screaming. And perhaps the scariest part of the story is that no one in the main house heard six women screaming their lungs out like someone was being murdered.
So, which one of us has the picture of you with the hoe killing a slug? It needs to be posted!
I hope I can sleep tonight. Seriously.