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Wednesday, September 12, 2012


I don’t believe anything should be killed for the sake of killing. Not even snakes. Or spiders or bugs. UNLESS any of those creatures feel like a threat to me or someone I love.  

Then there are Armadillos. I seriously do not get it. What their purpose is. Because since we moved to the country twelve years ago, we’ve had the yard around our home literally dug up and demolished too many times by terrorist Armadillos. You work hard to make your yard look nice—to get rid of weeds—to keep it watered during hideously hot Texas summers. Here come the Armadillos. Thrilled you’ve done it all for their enjoyment.

Back in July, My Sweet Hubby (MSH) was setting the trap for a rogue Armadillo tearing up our lawn and gardens. Said Hubby really hasn’t had, however, a lot of luck with the trap. There was the time he set it up near our front door. The night before I was having friends over for breakfast. He caught a skunk. I wasn’t amused. The smell lingered just long enough to greet all four of them as they arrived.

This time, MSH decided he’d try peanut butter as the lure. My (kind-of-expensive) Jiff Natural. Crunchy.

ELC: Where did you hear about peanut butter?
MSH: It’s just an idea I have that it'd be intrigued and go on in the trap to check it out.
ELC: Won’t it make the ants happier than the Armadillo? Won’t they get to my kind-of-expensive peanut butter before The Evil Armadillo?
MSH: No. Ants don’t come out at night.


I didn’t actually say this out loud. Thought it, though. I decided MSH must know something I didn’t. About ants. He does watch hours and hours of the National Geographic Channel. And TLC. It didn’t seem right to little ole’ not-as-smart-as-MSH me, but maybe it would work. I thought there might be new "ant" research I hadn't heard about.

(May I also interject another ELC/MSH story, at this point? About ten years ago, MSH came home from work one evening and excitedly asked me if I’d like to take an IQ test on-line. I could tell he was going to be pushy about it until I did. I knew what he was up to. I’d been married to him for 24 years. I was sure he’d done really well and wanted to show me he was mucho smarter than moi. Oh, what the heck, why not? It took about thirty minutes to complete. When I got my score, I called him into our bedroom, where our home computer was located, to share my success. He came struttin’ in—with a goofy grin on his face. He was so certain he'd beaten my score by MANY points. He looked at my results and suddenly got frustrated/confused. The grin disappeared. He asked me how I got that score. I said: “You saw me in here taking this test you coerced me into taking. How do you think I got it? Exactly what are you insinuating? That I cheated? What did you get?” Yep. We made the same score. He tried to make me take it again. Not sure where he ever got the idea I’d even consider doing that. As TLC calls him occasionally: Little Fruitcake.)

Back to The Armadillo Dilemma. The next morning—at 4:45 a.m. to be exact—he came into the bedroom and saw I was awake. He quietly and quite sheepishly said: “The ants came. You were right. That didn’t work at all.”

35 years after meeting me—34 years after marrying me—I might have convinced him I’m semi-smart/wise. Truly, and I'm sooo sincere: I trust this man with my life. I don't trust him, however, to set traps for armadillos (I've decided they deserve no more capitalizations). He's going to have to watch a few more educational shows, apparently. 



Autumn said...

So funny. I think these sweet hubbies get worse as they get older. Personally, I see no shame in admitting you don't know something. Or that you were wrong. But mine won't do either. So then it becomes a contest to see if I can catch him being wrong. Is that wrong? Haha.

The Leightons said...

I think you're right. Except I have a feeling they think WE get worse as WE get older. How cRaZy is that? I mean, REALLY?

EXACTLY--we don't mind admitting when we're wrong. And we can't help it that it's just so VERY seldom.

No--we have to keep trying to catch them being wrong. It's our duty. And our only hope.

Love you, Silly Friend!!!