Camping Commandment #1

There is a ubiquitous rule when it comes to insects of any kind: Never under any circumstances take your eyes off of that bug until you have successfully disposed of it.

You know that as soon as you look away that fucker will be GONE and most likely nesting in your hair or brain.

You may recall that I am sometimes irrational when it comes to things in the woods. Well, you can apply that to insects. Come to think of it, you can apply my irrationality to the woods, insects, basements, and closets when the door isn't shut all the way and you KNOW there is a killer/beast staring at you through the crack.

Once, in the woods of New Jersey, I completely lost my mind and broke the first Camping Commandment: That's right ladies and gentlemen, I LOOKED AWAY.

It was a rather humid, albeit fun, weekend spent with the Farley Clan in New Jersey. It is the kind of campground where you have to walk through the woods to the bathroom and insert quarters into a meter-like object in order to take a shower. Yes, those places are real. Because the campground was absolutely terrifying at night, Husband, Sisters-in-Law, and I cautiously walked to the bathroom together. I'm a true believer that a killer, whether wild beast or psychopath, is more likely to attack if you are alone. I also firmly believe that if you are not the weakest member of the group, and the group is under attack, you'll be safe. This is why I work out fiendishly.

We walked as quickly as possible while still maintaining our ultra cool exterior through the woods. The bathroom/devil shack sat under a single street light. I'd like to point out that the bathroom looked EXACTLY like the bathroom in any movie where an innocent girl is attacked by a masked man with a huge knife, who was hiding behind the fucking door the entire time she was brushing her teeth. I use the word "innocent" loosely because we all know that rule number one of any slasher flick is KEEP YOUR DICK IN YOUR PANTS. Once you bone, you die alone.

Again, I'll assume that you're a visual learner. I'll also assume that you're not into slasher flicks, which is absolutely your loss. Either way, unless you're a virgin, don't ever walk into a bathroom that looks like this:

So the bathroom was a creepfest. Awful fluorescent lighting, it smelled, and the floor was both sticky and wet [how does that even happen?]. Sister-in-Law J and I huddled together at one mirror, washing our faces like good little girls, when we both saw the UGLIEST bug you'll ever see in your life. I'm being serious. It was a hybrid species of spider, stick bug, dinosaur, and the devil.

We got locked in a stare-down with this thing.

 Then J unknowingly sealed our fate when she said, "You know you should never look away from a bug once you've seen it. If you look away and then look back, it won't be there."

I immediately threw up in my mouth. I didn't want to act like a total dickhead, so I just shrugged it off. I say "shrugged", but it probably looked more like I was having a seizure. I was so freaked out I couldn't control my body. That's when I broke Camping Commandment #1: I looked away. I immediately realized the severity of my mistake. I whipped my whole head around to the spot where it was. IT WASN'T THERE. J and I both screeched and stamped our feet, which accomplishes nothing.

The dino-spider-devil bug was gone. The only logical explanation, in my mind, was that it was currently on my back traveling at the speed of light to lay thousands of eggs in my hair. I slapped myself uselessly. J and I checked each other multiple times to no avail. It was too late. The bug had fulfilled its life duty by laying its eggs in our hair and then it must have evaporated. I mean, how else could you explain it? Don't even try to tell me something ridiculous like "oh it probably just scurried under the sink." Fuck you. That bug was so big, we would have heard it scurrying on the wet-sticky tile. My theory was it laid so many eggs that all that was left of it was an empty exoskeleton, which most likely crumpled to dust.

I'll have you know that we never found that bug and we looked all over the bathroom. Husband, my Brave Little Toaster, was forced to carry the backpack with all of our bathroom supplies. God knows if the dino-spider-devil bug didn't evaporate, it was in the bag. I was not about to touch that bag. EVER AGAIN.

And now, you should learn from my mistakes and go out into the world feeling confident that you'll never break Camping Commandment #1.