There are few rules in the house with no name.
One of them is: Always wears sandals or shoes when walking around in unlit areas. Such as, the patio.
I mention the patio specifically because that is where the rule began. I had stepped on enough cockroaches, slugs, and snakes while walking across the patio at night that it seemed prudent to institute a No Shoes, No Traverse rule. Of course, it is my rules in my house. So, I don't always obey them.
What happened last night was an example of why there is a rule.
It was just before 2 in the morning. I had finished watching an episode of Peaky Blinders and decided to return my ice cream bowl to the kitchen. Because there was plenty of moonlight on the patio, I did not turn on the lights -- even though I was barefoot.
I had walked maybe three paces when I felt a very distinctive crunch under my left heel. The ectoskeletons have a certain feel. I was positive I had sent a cockroach back to its maker. Good riddance.
When I finished washing up the dishes, I returned to my bedroom, picked up my flashlight, and went outside to see what I had just killed.
My readers are a clever lot. You will have already drawn the connection between the crunch and the photograph. I had stepped on one of those nasty beige scorpions that show up with some regularity on this part of the Mexican coast.
This was not my first barefoot encounter with the scorpion clan. It was my third. The other two happened in my bedroom and in the kitchen. I must step on them just right to avoid being stung by the nasty little barb on the end of their tails.
The lack of negative reinforcement, of course, encourages me to do what I have been doing. Despite my own rules.
Now, there may be a Covid moral embedded somewhere in this morality play. Every discussion these days has -- or so it seems.
But, as Freud never said, but I will: "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."
And a scorpion is just a scorpion.