The Thing About Florida

So I was born and raised in Wisconsin. True cheese head through and through. My dad worked at a cheese plant for 16+ years, hell I even worked there for a few summers. We won’t mention the toxic chemicals I used to do my job or the hours I spent in a warehouse alone checking jars of cheese, because well then I would be bitter and not just sayin. That is not the point. The point is that in Wisconsin we have animals that are gross and scary and make you do the icky-icky dance that is required to get the goose bumps off of you. Don't laugh at me! You know exactly what I'm talking about! I guess when you grow up around mosquitoes the size of humming birds, ticks that are just dying to burrow deep into your skin and get all fat and stretchy from feasting on your delicious O+ blood, you just kind of get used to them. It's the way it is. Sure once in a while you find one of the little mongrels and you do the shudder shake like it's going out of style but for the most part, they aren't that terrifying.
Then one day, you fall in love and you pack up your stuff and move to Florida. Talk about culture shock here people. Eh's have become Ya'lls and everyone talks like they have a mouthful of cow poop and they have the nerve to look at me funny because they assume I come from the land of wood chippers and brats (the food, not the spoiled child). Of course I come from the land of sauerkraut laden goodness but I have never once operated a wood chipper, although I'm sure I could figure it out easy enough...

Right... my point. Peeps are weird down here but what is even stranger is the wildlife. Oh I have spent a good amount of time gazing wistfully and the pelicans and boobies (the birds not the body parts) thinking how lovely the wildlife is. JB was kind enough to remove the palmetto bugs (as they like to call them) before I came down. Unfortunately there are more than 8 of them in this world and for the record they are no palmetto bugs they are friggin ROACHES people. It's like calling an alligator a hungry little lizard. I think I made it four days until it happened.

Do you know I now have to wear shoes whenever I leave my house? The garage is a war zone and as I found out, so is my front walk. I went outside to get the beast her dinner and the first step I took into the garage narrowly avoided tromping on a giant, black bug that was almost big enough to put a saddle on. This wouldn't have been quite so traumatizing if I hadn't been barefoot. I'm sure you are laughing at me now saying, Silly Bernice. It's just a little bug. Come on people! These ain't your regular ol' household roaches. They are the size of Nantucket! Blechk.

Fast forward to last night. It is garbage day today so of course the entire neighborhood has their garbage out to the curb by 3:30pm sharp. It's a little creepy actually, but that is all for another post. I had gone grocery shopping to feed the two teenage boys that will soon be cohabitating here and needed to make room for the new food. Of course this means the two-week old box of Little Ceaser's Hot N' Ready pizza had to go. I skipped out the door giddy and oblivious. What once was my boring old leaf-laden front steps was now a party for geckos. I repeat... blehck. Sure they are cute in pictures and in Geico commercials but they aren't so cute when you are doing the two-step barefoot through a moving gecko minefield. They mostly blend in with the concrete so it was even harder to locate the little buggers before stepping on them. And now my toes are all curled up at the thought of squishing a little creepy crawly between my toes. You know yours are too! If not, you are a freak.

Thankfully on the way back they had all mostly gone into hiding so my path was relatively clear of lounging lizards.

So what is my point? My point is that I have learned several things.

1. Always wear something on your feet when leaving the house. Tis better to squish something with at least a sandal barrier.
2. When going outside at night, turn the light on, count to 10 and send the hound out first. She doesn't seem to mind the little critters at all.
3. If all else fails, have the man do it. Situation avoided completely.
4. We aint' in 'Sconsin anymore Toto
5. I am a giant weenie.

So there you have it folks. This big ol' tough-girl squirms at the sight of "icky" things. But if you tell anyone my secret, I will kick your ass.