Yesterday morning I had a squealing in the shower moment. I’m not much of a squealing type of person, but I was washing my hair and I saw something dark on the shower curtain, which had not been there earlier. For some reason I thought it was just my hair falling out (the logistics of this not being something I thought through thoroughly at 7.20am).
So, turning to inspect more closely, I discovered, to my horror, that it was a massive moth. I honestly have no idea where it came from – however I have visions of it stealthily clambering up the shower curtain, with the jaws theme tune going through its head, me in its sights, jaws theme tune getting faster and faster as it climbs higher and higher, until “eeek” – I turn off the shower and jump out, so that it can flutter about to its heart’s content in water-free freedom.
But I foiled the moth’s plan – because my lightning reactions were too speedy (ahem, yes, that is my excuse for jumping out of the shower without turning it off…)
But, as all dramas do, this one has a happy ending. Mr Moth was sent to its freedom out of the window, I got back in the shower in time to get the conditioner out of my hair before a hair-product disaster could set in and everyone lived happily ever after.
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