This morning, I needed to get my running shoes out of the car. When I flipped on the outside light, the moths went bonkers. I detest moths - so disgusting with their creepy powdery wings. I have horrors of having one fly into my ear, which happened to my great aunt once. I thought it was just a weird thing that happened to her until my mom's Redbook included a cure for it in their "Common Summer Injuries" section.
My cats were just plain fascinated. They were avidly watching out the glass door, tails twitching in unison. Daphne couldn't stand the watching anymore and started trying to attack the moths though the glass.
I needed to turn on the alarm (I would hate for ax murderers to attack my sleeping sweetie) so I tried to shoo Daphne out of the way. She gave me her indignant meow - the one that means "BUT I WANT TO PLAY WITH IT."
For some reason, the whole scenario amused the crap out of me.
There was a full moon outside as I was running. Is it bad that I kept my eyes out for werewolves?