SQUIRREL!

I killed a squirrel once. It was a pretty traumatizing experience. I was driving on 267 (busiest street in Brownsburg) and I didn't have time to stop or room to swerve, so I tried to straddle it. Problem: I drive a PT Cruiser, which has like two inches of clearance, so I basically mangled the poor thing into oblivion with the various pieces/parts on the bottom of my car. I was on my way to work (at Donatos), and I was crying and crap (because I'm a softy, I know this surprises some of you) and my manager made fun of me, and then Dad brought me flowers to try and cheer me up (don't ask, it was Mom's idea).

Anyway, the point of this grisly story is that I used to think squirrels were small, fuzzy, adorable creatures that could sometimes be suicidal, but were generally sweet and cuddly. I think I may have watched one too many Disney movies as a child.

My current view of squirrels:

SPAWN OF THE DEVIL.

I am not kidding. They're trying to kill me, and their weapon of choice? Acorn fastballs. In the past week, I have been hit in the head by five (count them: five) flying/falling acorns. Every single time I hear the obnoxious chitter of squirrels. The first time, the squirrel in question scampered down his tree and glared at me.

Notice that these only count the times that I've been hit. Once we were coming back from lunch carrying dessert and an acorn fell into Emily's pudding. Which would have been insanely funny if I wasn't convince these squirrels were conspiring to assassinate me.

Don't mess with squirrels. DON'T DO IT.