Alright, I think I’m finally ready to talk about it. There’s no way I could’ve told you any sooner, since I was noticeably shaken in the days following the incident. They always say that about a near death experience, don’t they? It’s understandably tough to talk about in the hours or days following, but as the weeks go by it can be cathartic to share. I may be shortening the mourning period ever so slightly, considering this only happened a few days ago, but that’s how quickly I bounce back. Resiliency, son.
On Saturday afternoon circa 1:30 pm, I came thisclose to swallowing a caterpillar. And this wasn’t, like, some dare so I could get inducted into the frat of my dreams. I had to make time with larvae far less glam than the caterpillar to get into that frat, and I’m not just talking about the fellow brothers.
It also wasn’t for environmental reasons, since I’m sure you know insects could allegedly solve world hunger if we all jumped to consuming beetles on the reg. I’m actually flattered you’d think I was that progressive, since I’m pretty sure I’d be all kinds of resistant to Entomophagy.
It wasn’t even for a party trick, if you can believe that. I’m pretty confident with my abilities to relieve a table of its cloth in the company of strangers, so I’ll stick with ol’ faithful. No need to go down the insect ingesting route for now, but I’ll keep you posted should I change my mind and need the crutch.
This near-caterpillar consumption was purely accidental, you guys. Luckily I spotted the little dear floating in my miso soup before any damage could be done. Exhibit A:
I was, understandably, shaken in the moments following my near-ingestion. My head was spinning, running through the possibilities of what would have become of me if I’d failed to inspect my soup and instead trustingly ate the larva.
Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? It could have killed me. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but many species of caterpillar are poisonous. It’s mostly the ones who live in the Tropical Rainforest, but how far is that from Ireland? Not even 4,000 miles, y’all. Just a breezy 7 hour flight. That’s a bit too close for comfort; a determined larva could easily make that journey.
We also know that caterpillars form cocoons so they can go through puberty in privacy. First of all, jealous. I would’ve loved such a cozy little blanket to snuggle in back then, so I’m a bit resentful that they get this option.
More importantly, though, what if this caterpillar decided to build said cocoon in my body? I don’t want to disgust anyone, but at some stage I’m sure I’d be convinced I was up the duff, so to speak. I’d go to the OB/GYN with my husband all excited, like, “Oh it’s a bit sooner than we thought, but we’re just so excited.” Several months would pass before we’d realize I was gestating an insect. What would we even do with the nursery at that stage? I don’t even want to think about it.
Another thing to consider is what species it was, since the caterpillar wasn’t giving anything away. Was it a moth? Regular old butterfly? Monarch? I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly in a position to house a massive fucking monarch butterfly in my body cavity. It may only live for like 2-6 weeks, but that’s time I could devote to learning French. I don’t need a freeloading papillon in my belly, mes amis.
And, yeah, it’s worth considering what would happen once the monarch decided to mate. I slept through most of Biology, but I seem to recall that butterflies will get seriously aggressive if they don’t find a mate to penetrate within their month-long life span. That bitch could wreak some serious havoc, since I’m 99% sure there’s no other butterflies living in my belly.
So, yeah, I had a brush with death. Luckily I’m unharmed, still eating miso soup on the reg and boasting a body sans-monarch inhabitant. Good thing I didn’t ingest that thing, though it turns out it was actually a fish bone.
Ah well, that could’ve caused some minor discomfort.