Just when you thought the story couldn’t get worse than the knitting-less needles that have left me with no knitting to do for several nights now. (Well, except for that sock.) Just when you thought things couldn’t get scarier…

You discover that evil is lurking everywhere.

Even an innocent coffee cup.

I bring my coffee to work every morning in this stainless steel thermal mug. It sits on the counter overnight, and each morning, while brewing my coffee, I warm up the mug with boiling water, so that my coffee will stay hotter longer, since I can’t abide warmish coffee.

So, this morning, I went about my usual routine. Made my oatmeal, fed Chappy, and then prepared my coffee. I dumped out the hot water, poured in the coffee, cream, and sugar and screwed on the lid.

Then I flipped the seal over on its hinge, to hold in the coffee.

There was a BUG lurking under the seal.

On lid of my coffee cup. While I was screwing it onto the mug.

What would have happened if I hadn’t sealed the mug, but had instead decided to take a sip? The bug and I would have been eye-to-eye. Or it might have fallen down my shirt (eek!). Or scurried off over my hand to get away, causing me to drop the coffee on poor Chappy’s head.

I don’t like bugs, mind you, but I’m not THAT squeamish about them. But … this was a little too close for comfort. Did that bug climb up the coffee cup to the lid and sit there all night? Did it creep across the counter while I was stirring my oatmeal? How long was it there? What was it doing? Why?

I’ll tell you what it was doing. It was lurking, lying in wait for some nefarious reason.

Well!

The aftermath?

I was very calm. Sure, it startled me. I flipped the seal over on my coffee, saw the bug, and said, “Oh!” as I pulled my hands away and stepped back.

“What?” asked both my parents.

“There’s … a BUG on my coffee cup.”

“What? Where?” Mom jumped up and came running over. Meanwhile, the bug hadn’t moved (it was probably dizzy from its ride while I screwed the lid onto the mug). I flicked it off the cup and into the sink.

Mom started doing her Bug Dance. “Ohmigod! What are we going to do? Kill it! It’s moving. It’s escaping!” She grabbed a huge handful of paper towels and … I’m not sure if she squished it or just laid them on top … but by then she was waving her hands in the air and calling my Dad, who was calmly trying to eat his bagel … not easy to do when you’re laughing at your wife’s antics. I, on the other hand, was standing there, holding my coffee cup, trying to tell them exactly where the bug had been, how CLOSE it had been, so that they would properly appreciate how calm I was, not throwing the mug across the room or freaking out.

All in all, it was a pretty exciting moment. And just thinking about Mom’s bug dance makes me feel like laughing. Mom is VERY entertaining when there are bugs around. Or snakes.

Oh, and the kind of bug? I’m not sure. Dad said a water bug (coffee bug)? We obviously have them around, though, because I found one ON Chappy’s water dish the other day. Right on the rim, right where my thumb would go when I pick it up to fill it. That was startling enough, but, you know, that was on the FLOOR. That’s completely different. Finding a bug on the floor (or, well, two inches up, on your dog’s dish rim) isn’t THAT unusual. Finding one that apparently wants to share your coffee? Definitely unexpected.

Something else that’s unexpected?

You’ll never guess what I’m doing tomorrow.

Mom and I are going into New York.

That may not seem that unusual. We only live about 35 miles outside the city, after all, right? Except … I really don’t like New York very much. It’s a crowd thing, I can’t abide crowds.

Mind you, there are some wonderful things in the city, and don’t think I don’t know that. But I also don’t like traffic. I’ve never once in my life driven into the city. The closest I’ve come was driving over the George Washington bridge the one and only time I’ve been to Long Island. I get claustrophic on buses (because, again the crowd thing), and just generally don’t like to go. I have had good times once I’ve made it into the city and am wherever it is I needed to be … the theater, the museum, the office, whatever. But the idea of going in and just walking around? That’s like going to the dentist.

In fact, you folks know exactly how long it’s been since I’ve been to New York. Almost exactly four years, since I went in on business on January 31, 2006. Before that? It had been 6 years. That had been while Katy was alive, and we went in to see a Broadway show. (“Annie Get Your Gun,” which I hated, even if it did have Bernadette Peters in it. The rest of the family loved it, though, and Mom and Dad even went to see it again with my sister and their grandkids when Reba McIntyre took over.)

Anyway, you can see that this is a highly unusual thing for me. So, it’s got to be something big that draws me in there, right?

Well, yeah, in its way. Titanic, even.

Because, that’s where we’re going–to see the Titanic Artifacts exhibit at the Discovery center (or museum, or whatever it’s called) in Times Square. It’s been there since the summer, and I’ve wanted to go, but kept putting it off. The exhibit ends in a few weeks, though, so time is of the essence.

Besides, this is by nature of a reward for finishing the draft of my book. (Did I tell you that I had the second draft done? In only one month after finishing the first one–talk about record time!) Since the book is called “After Titanic,” seeing actual pieces from the real thing is definitely an inspiring idea, don’t you think?

(And, don’t think I don’t appreciate the irony that I’m doing something I compare to going to the dentist as a “reward.”)

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