Herbert is finally DEAD!

  Good morning! I hope everyone had an awesome Holiday weekend! Mine was pretty laid back…until yesterday morning when I woke up at 3:00 AM with a BUG IN MY EAR!!!
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  Are y’all done laughing yet? No? It’s OK, I’ll wait…

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  Seriously. I woke up with A-BUG-IN-MY-EAR! And it was driving me up a damn wall!
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  How did I know there was a bug in my ear? For starters, it sounded like a combination of Rice Crispies and a wire brush movin’ around in there. Also, I could FEEL it…sort of a mild tickling sensation.
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  I tried pouring hydrogen peroxide in my ear and bubbling the noisy bugger out. Nope. I tried using our shower head as a water pick. Nope. I tried Q-tips about 20 different times. Nope.
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  Herbert (yes, I named the fudge-knocker!) would get quiet for a while, lulling me into a false hope that he’d either vacated my ear canal or friggin’ DIED, them he’d wake up from his apparent nap and start tap-dancing again. (And if you’ve never heard a bug tap dance inside your ear? Well, you just ain’t lived!)
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  When The Girl woke up she was concerned about my chronic distraction. “I HAVE A BUG IN MY EAR!”
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  “Umm, Mom? What drugs have you taken this morning?”
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  Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence.
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  When hubby got up, I crossed the room to give him a hug, and he was kind enough to catch me as I fell over. It would seem that having a micro-critter building a log cabin made from your cilia will eventually screw with your equilibrium. Or your constant attempts to scream, “GET OUT!” into your own ear will make you a bit dizzy, since it ends up resembling a dog chasing its own tail.
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Hubby- “You OK?”
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Me- “I HAVE A BUG IN MY EAR!”
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Hubby- (To the Girl) “What drugs has your Mom taken this morning?”
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  Again, thanks for being all understanding-like.
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  This went on most of the day. Herbert would nap and I’d be cool for a while, then he’d wake up and get back to practicing his gymnastics routine. This would be followed by me loseing my shiz-nit for a while; trying to fit my finger deep enough in my ear I could scratch my brain, trying to maneuver my mouth up to my own ear until I fell over, and furiously cursing some invisible entity named Herbert until some unsuspecting bystander would inevitably ask, “Are you OK?”

Anatomy of Human Ear

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  We ended up at an awesome BBQ at my Dad’s house and all appeared to be going well. There was enough noise that most of Herbert’s exploits were drowned out and I was being pretty damned successful at ignoring his inner-tickles.
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  Then, a lull in the conversation and a particularly lively dance routine in my ear alerted everyone to my plight. OK, a lull in the conversation and my screaming, “GET OUT, DAMN YOU!” alerted everyone to the fact I was slightly unhinged, leaving me feeling compelled to defend my sanity by way of explaining about Herbert.
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Side Note: When one is attempting to defend one’s sanity, one should always refer to a bug in one’s ear as simply “a bug in my ear” and never as “Herbert”. Informing people that one has named a bug living in one’s ear does nothing to provide proof of sanity. End Note
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  While there were nervous whispers, several different explanations of what it could be, and numerous other guests slowly backing away, my Aunt suggested Vodka. And I was all like, “Why not? Maybe if I drink enough I won’t care what the little bastard is doing!”
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  Then she informed me she meant I should pour it in my ear. Which I figured might work because if it didn’t kill him, then at least he’d probably get really drunk and pass out giving me an hour or two of peace and inner-quiet.
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  Dad offered us some Vermouth as well, in case we wanted to mix a tiny, bug-sized Martini. I declined figuring cramming an olive on a toothpick in my ear probably wasn’t the best idea and what’s a Martini without an olive on a toothpick?
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  Five minutes of laying on the couch with an ear-full of Vodka later and there was silence. Sweet, sweet SILENCE. Which, I might add, lasted the rest of the blessed day. *happy sigh*
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  This morning I started thinking that maybe I should make one last attempt to retrieve Herbert’s body so I could return it to his family for burial. So, to the bathroom I went and poured a cap-full of hydrogen peroxide in my ear-hole. *insert drum roll here* And out came Herbert’s final remains!
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  A flea. I had a flippin’ FLEA in my ear. (And lucky for me it was not one that could hold his liquor.)
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  So, for Hubby who maintained all day that I’d just lost what little mind I had left, for The Girl who was kind enough to offer, “Maybe it’s a spider that climbed in there and is laying its eggs,” and to my Uncle who quoted the scene from Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan where they put the buggy thingy in Chekov’s ear, I present to you Herbert, the ear-flea.

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  May he rest in peace.
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PS I guess this is what I get for sleeping with kittens on my head. *sigh*
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PPS Believe it or no, when you type, “What should I do if I have a bug in my ear?” into a search engine, you actually get a literal shit-ton of results! According to this one, baby, vegetable, or olive oil would do the trick, although it did say you could use diluted alcohol. (But really, would Herb have gotten as wasted on half-water-half-Vodka?)


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