Hopper's Gang

The field between my house and the office is full of grasshoppers this time of year.  Sage eats them, I try to walk around them, and Greg mows them down. 

I've never been a fan of the hopper.  

I think my disdain dates back to 1999, when I was an unfortunate participant in.....an incident.

A happening with a hopper, if you will.

I even eluded to it in 2008 in this post

Greg and I had been to dinner with a bunch of Garretts.  We were engaged, but I was still very Western at the time.  After dinner, everyone wanted to see the condo that we had JUST purchased to reside in while living in wedded bliss.  

So we went.  And it was on our way that this story gets good.

We were driving on the freeway.  I-15 going North.  (Now that I think about it, I think we were eating at Golden Corral, which makes sense now that I know all those Garrett's a bit better.)

I was riding shotgun in the Bronco with the window down.  Aerosmith was playing (Greg still tolerated my music back then.)  I'm pretty sure my arm was out the window, and I was probably singing loudly.

What happened next is a little blurry, but there was suddenly a HUGE hopper in the car with me.  Believe me when I said it was larger than average and it was attacking me.  Now, I know you may be thinking to yourself  "It wasn't ATTACKING, it was probably trying to get out!" and to you I say:

IT WAS ATTACKING ME. 

It was jumping against my legs and hitting them with the same intensity of being flicked by someone. 

Flick, flick, flick! 

I noticed in horror that its legs were falling off and they were sticking to mine.  Huge grasshopper legs.

I began to scream in terror, and Greg swerved across a lane of traffic. 

I do remember thinking "How can it still jump?!  How many legs are ON a grasshopper?!"

They say that we, as humans, respond to terror in one of two ways.  Fight or flight.  In that moment, in that car, I chose flight.  I wanted to get away.

So I began to climb over the seat.  One problem I encountered was that my seat belt was still on.  Holding me to the seat.  So my legs went over the seat.

Only they aren't THAT long, so they ended up around Greg's neck.  While we were still going 70 up I-15. 

I screamed and screamed until I began to laugh.  But that didn't last long and then I was screaming, laughing and crying all at the same time.  I remember thinking that was an odd combination. 

And then.....I was laughing and screaming and crying so hard that....

Well, I peed my pants.  And it was highly unfortunate for Greg because my legs were still around his head. 

It was at this point that the hopper made it all the way to the shoulder strap of my seat belt and Greg reached over and flicked it out the window.

All the while NOT killing us in the Bronco.  He's multi-talented that's for sure. 

So we showed our new condo to the family and by the grace of heaven there was a sweatshirt in the back of the Bronco that I wrapped around my waist.  I don't think anyone was the wiser.

And the best part is?

He STILL MARRIED ME a few weeks later.

But I still don't like a hopper.