It all started so innocently; I was excelling at my wifely duties by making a delicious dinner for my hardworking husband. We were having Chicken Alfredo over pasta. I went to drain the pasta, and realized I needed to put on my oven mitts because my Le Creuset was scolding hot! I grabbed my gloves off the convenient hook they were hanging on, and slipped my hands in. Immediately, I felt something scratchy, like velcro. Before I had a second to think what it could possibly be, the velcro like feeling started moving and I felt a bite. As any girly girl like myself would do, I screamed my loudest bloodcurdling, someone-is-murdering-me cry, jumped in the air and threw down my mitts. My once seemingly innocent mitts lay on the floor. My finger, where I had been bitten was burning as I watched the centipede scramble out of the glove. I shrieked for my husband, James, to get it as he jumped up from his desk, took of his flip-flop and smashed it! Wham, wham wham... dead!
Needless to say, for the rest of the night (and to this day) I am traumatized! We searched the internet to find out if the centipede was poisonous. Good thing for me, it wasn't. Although my finger did swell and I had some pain, I was not seriously injured. It took a very big glass of wine to calm down and fall asleep that night, but it was a lesson well learned. Always check your oven mitts! Ohhhh my Grenada!!