To give you a little background, earlier today my husband had found a stag beatle in the kitchen. He had thrown it out the window, he thought, but being a slippery little sucker, it had turned in mid flight, and landed right in the pile of dishes to go in the dishwasher.  I have this thing about stag beatles. It's the pincers. They are just too pincer like. I don't find them cute 'n' cuddly at all. Can't imagine why not.

Anyway, later on that day I went in to clear the kitchen, make myself some hot chocolate and start cooking tea. What did I find?  You guessed it, the beatle. It gave me quite a start, since I was half-way through watching the Mummy at that point. Come to think of it, beatles seem to figure large in that movie too. Prepared by the movie, my heart started beating harder, my eyes dilated, and the adrenaline army advanced on my arteries like a flood.

Let's just say that Brave Lady Sarah ran away. 

I couldn't leave it at that. Oh no. I had to prove that I was bigger than it. (Apart from the fact that I am actually bigger than a stag beatle.) I had to show it I was not afraid of this beast. On MSN my husband pointed out that it was corralled. I had actually covered the dish, so it was not only corralled, but contained. Yet I could still hear it's sing-song voice taunting me.

"Scardy cat, afraid of little old me. I'm drinking your chocolate. I'm drinking your chocolate." 

That was it. I was going back in there to face it, and to get my hot chocolate.

Let me tell you, that beatle is strong. I carefully gauged it's strength, drew my trusty sewing needle and advanced. 

It stood, waving its pincers and claiming the high ground. The sun, rising behind it, set the sky ablaze with a red which seemed to promise the spilling of blood before the day was through.

I approached, slowly feinting to my left, before I ran to the right, and reached the microwave just seconds before it did. I held it back, my needle moving swiftly in and out. My left hand pulled the door of the microwave, and that was when it struck. 

It pulled the needle from my grasp, and snapped it in two.

I stood my ground. I was not going to let it beat me in a battle of wills. It could snap my needle, but it couldn't snap my backbone. It advanced, I retreated. It grinned, I snarled. It laughed out loud.

I swiftly took the opportunity to remove the chocolate from the microwave, and flee, leaving the battlefield with my winnings, having lost only my dignity, my self-respect and my sewing needle. But at least I have my chocolate!