Memories of Summers Past

Many MANY years ago when I lived in my parent’s basement I was working in my jewellery studio at some ungodly late hour when my dad came creeping downstairs holding my brother’s old childhood air rifle. He asked me if I had heard any strange noises outside in the back yard. I totally had not because I was not only using my jewellers’ drill thingy but I also had some sort of music cranked up pretty loud.

I turned down my music and grabbed my trusty pepper spray from my purse ready to kick some thief ass and have another great father/daughter bonding moment. I joined my dad at the back door with our ears to the crack trying to hear if anybody was trying to break into the cars or worse, into the house itself. We crouched down in a commando stance and whipped the basement door open hoping to surprise any criminal in the act.

Nobody there.

We had just straightened up grinning at each other over our excessive worry and reaction when in a blur of grey a wee kitten Yoshi streaked through our legs and out into the yard.

Yoshi was not allowed to be out at night as the neighbourhood had raccoons and even coyotes which would make kitten chow out of her in seconds.

We ran out chasing her and she hid under a bush just out of reach. I put my little spray bottle in my pants front pocket and crouched down to coax her out…

PFFFFST! I pepper sprayed my groin.

I had forgotten to flick the safety switch back on.

We got Yoshi inside and I spent the rest of the night lying on my bed with a cool wet facecloth over my crotchal area.

So if you cannot aim at an attacker’s eyes I can assure you spraying their private parts will work pretty good too.