I was still working on the book, as I have been all day and evening, and Melissa came in for hugs, and then i sat back down in my chair, discussing what she’d probably have to do with this book while I’m recuperating after surgery. Lots of edits on the horizon, and such.
About that time, I felt something crawling on my side, up under my shirt. I’d been slapping bugs off me all day today.
Since I can rarely see past the swell of my bodacious tah-tahs, I lifted my shirt and Melissa laid eyes on the thing, and shouted with a measure of horror, “Oh god!”
Like lightning, I swept my hands over the general location with some force, and hit my fingers on the arm of my chair, which was very painful, all the while hearing Melissa add clarity: “It’s a cricket!”
Here’s a tip. Shouting “Oh god!” in that context means, “It’s a spider.”
If it’s a cricket, though, you say with a generous amount of nonchalance, “Oh. It’s just a cricket.”
That way, I don’t break my fingers trying to get it off me.