This has nothing to do with fibro, but it really happened and I want to write about it.

This morning, when it was time to brush my teeth, I did exactly what I always do: grabbed the toothbrush, loaded it, switched it on (it’s electric) and brushed.

Normal. Except for this: as I spat out the toothpaste, I noticed it had a passenger – a tiny, fully-formed scorpion. I swear to God I am not making this up. I grew up around here (AZ/Phoenix) and although my blood pressure rises when I see one, it isn’t a surprise. Until you realize one of them just took a roller coaster ride in your mouth.

My hunch is the little s.o.b. was hunkered down in the bristles and, not being a morning person and nearsighted anyway, I never saw him. I have an excuse: he is (was) about the size of the nail of my little finger. I don’t think I was stung (although I certainly did subsequently pay particular attention to a sore spot on my jaw that has probably been there for years, but went unnoticed until today).

I’m laughing tonight when I think about what the little m*^?erf#&!er went through. While minding his baby scorpion business, he experienced the equivalent of a rocket launch that landed him squarely into something like a washing machine in spin cycle and then banging up against what must have felt like solid rock. And then he died. (Actually, he went down the drain once I regained composure. As much as I don’t want to encounter scorpions I try not to kill them and generally just take them outside instead.)

The whole rest of the day was utterly fantastic after this brief encounter.