I decided that since my life currently lacks a great measure of humor - I will stimulate it by recounting humor from my mission. Today's episode: How I became flea-bitten.
I was serving in Pottsville, Pennsylvania with Ciara Dresser. There are a couple of important things to know about Pottsville in order to fully appreciate this account: 1) More than 50% of the population HAS spent time in the psych ward. 2) The other 50% of the population IS currently spending time in the psych ward.
We had been teaching Teresa...but we quickly learned she fell into the 100% of the population I described above, so we stopped meeting with her. She called us one day in a panic because she couldn't find her cat. We took pity on her and went to help her find the dang cat. We found it alright - and just in time. It had been severely eaten by fleas and still had literally hundreds on it. I will spare you the gory details -but the cat had to be rushed to the animal hospital. The doctor at the animal hospital said if the cat had that many fleas on it, there were at least ten times that many fleas in the house - meaning there were thousands of fleas in Teresa's house.
Well now that just gives you warm fuzzies! Teresa drove herself home and we drove straight to Wal-Mart!
We headed to the insect killing spray isle, grabbed some super powerful, guaranteed to work flea bombs and headed back to the apartment. We got out of the car, set up a flea bomb between the two front seats, set it off, slammed the doors and locked the car.
Next we had to get into the apartment to get cleaned up...(remember the gory details I left out...well they left us very messy and not clean). We didn't want to infect the whole apartment so we decided it would be best if we climbed in through the bathroom window (Do note that we were wearing skirts for this adventure). I climbed in first. After shutting the bathroom door and sealing off the crack at the bottom (so no fleas could escape), I stripped down and jumped into the shower. After a long paranoid shower, I left my clothes in a wad on the floor and escaped the bathroom so Ciara could climb in the window and shower. After her shower, I set off the last flea bomb in the bathroom just to be safe. For the next two weeks every time a hair on my arm bristled or the wind blew just right, I jumped and screamed like a little girl - still paranoid that we had fleas.
I was serving in Pottsville, Pennsylvania with Ciara Dresser. There are a couple of important things to know about Pottsville in order to fully appreciate this account: 1) More than 50% of the population HAS spent time in the psych ward. 2) The other 50% of the population IS currently spending time in the psych ward.
We had been teaching Teresa...but we quickly learned she fell into the 100% of the population I described above, so we stopped meeting with her. She called us one day in a panic because she couldn't find her cat. We took pity on her and went to help her find the dang cat. We found it alright - and just in time. It had been severely eaten by fleas and still had literally hundreds on it. I will spare you the gory details -but the cat had to be rushed to the animal hospital. The doctor at the animal hospital said if the cat had that many fleas on it, there were at least ten times that many fleas in the house - meaning there were thousands of fleas in Teresa's house.
Well now that just gives you warm fuzzies! Teresa drove herself home and we drove straight to Wal-Mart!
We headed to the insect killing spray isle, grabbed some super powerful, guaranteed to work flea bombs and headed back to the apartment. We got out of the car, set up a flea bomb between the two front seats, set it off, slammed the doors and locked the car.
Next we had to get into the apartment to get cleaned up...(remember the gory details I left out...well they left us very messy and not clean). We didn't want to infect the whole apartment so we decided it would be best if we climbed in through the bathroom window (Do note that we were wearing skirts for this adventure). I climbed in first. After shutting the bathroom door and sealing off the crack at the bottom (so no fleas could escape), I stripped down and jumped into the shower. After a long paranoid shower, I left my clothes in a wad on the floor and escaped the bathroom so Ciara could climb in the window and shower. After her shower, I set off the last flea bomb in the bathroom just to be safe. For the next two weeks every time a hair on my arm bristled or the wind blew just right, I jumped and screamed like a little girl - still paranoid that we had fleas.
Comments