I should always carry a flask of Scotch

So I'm at Ruthies 3rd birthday last Sunday afternoon, standing around in my wide-legged Levis and I feel something on my leg.

I brush my leg and think..."its probably nothing."

...but eventually I come to the realization that there is definitely something crawling up my leg....INSIDE my pants...its near the top of my leg, so I grab my pants there to isolate it and I run across the street to Mom's house to remove them.

I get them off and run to the side door to fling the offending bug away. It lands on the steps...and I bend down to see that it is a Cicadia.

A Bee I can handle...a Bumblebee even....but I've always had a deep and abiding revulsion for Cicadias.....

At this point I get dizzy and look around for a drink...or some Valium maybe...but none to be found.

Eventually I straightened up, went back to the party and ate a huge serving of chocolate-cherry trifle......it was almost as good as some scotch would have been...