The other morning, I slid my foot into my sneaker and scraped over a small stone. Habitually, I froze up and almost pulled my foot out of my shoe. There's something in my shoe, there's Something in my shoe, there's SOMETHING in my shoe! No, it's just a rock. But I have a very good reason for this instinctual reaction.
A year and a half ago, getting ready for school. 5:45 am, dark, I'm half asleep, and I'm pulling on my uniform. I pull my scuffed-up, thick-soled, black dress shoes out from under my dresser, pull the left one on. *Yawn.* I lace it up, ensuring the strings are flat, not twisted. Next shoe, now. It's like the hokey-pokey. I put my toe in, I PULL MY TOE OUT! There's something pokey in my shoe! I'm awake! I'm pretty sure I screamed - you can ask my sister if you really need to know. I ever so slowly grab one of the laces and tip the shoe sideways; out comes this:
This is a parktown prawn. They are ugly, very pokey, squirt ink, and impossible to kill. I've been told it takes several phone books to stun them. Of course, my mom doesn't like killing things. I'm thankful she let us kill the mosquitoes. Spiders, wasps, parktown prawns, they go outside. Meaning someone has to pick them up and carry them there, and, when it's my shoe, that someone is me. Eurgh!
For the remainder of my time in Africa, I never failed to check my shoes before putting them on. And I still have the THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY SHOE instinct.
All this to say, be thankful you don't find parktown prawns in your shoes.
A year and a half ago, getting ready for school. 5:45 am, dark, I'm half asleep, and I'm pulling on my uniform. I pull my scuffed-up, thick-soled, black dress shoes out from under my dresser, pull the left one on. *Yawn.* I lace it up, ensuring the strings are flat, not twisted. Next shoe, now. It's like the hokey-pokey. I put my toe in, I PULL MY TOE OUT! There's something pokey in my shoe! I'm awake! I'm pretty sure I screamed - you can ask my sister if you really need to know. I ever so slowly grab one of the laces and tip the shoe sideways; out comes this:
This is a parktown prawn. They are ugly, very pokey, squirt ink, and impossible to kill. I've been told it takes several phone books to stun them. Of course, my mom doesn't like killing things. I'm thankful she let us kill the mosquitoes. Spiders, wasps, parktown prawns, they go outside. Meaning someone has to pick them up and carry them there, and, when it's my shoe, that someone is me. Eurgh!
For the remainder of my time in Africa, I never failed to check my shoes before putting them on. And I still have the THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY SHOE instinct.
All this to say, be thankful you don't find parktown prawns in your shoes.
I was freaking out too much to ever take a picture of one of these, so the image is from http://www.outdoorphoto.co.za/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=264444
No comments:
Post a Comment