He says that he doesn't light up a room...

but he was wrong!

Two nights ago, Steve came home from work at 12:30am.  I still happened to be up, and was sitting in the living room.  He walked in, bent over double, saying, "Get it out!  Get it out!"

For someone who doesn't light up a room (which of course *I* think he does), he must light up like a lightbulb because...

A MOTH FLEW INTO HIS EAR.

And didn't want to leave.  I, being a big sissy about bugs, was kind of freaking out.  I mean, what did he want me to do, pick it out with my fingers?  Peer closely, and risk having the moth fly into my face?

I helpfully went to get a Q-tip, but he was not impressed.  "Get the tweezers! I don't want to push it in further!" he snapped.  (Seriously!  I didn't fly into his ear!!)  He kind of used the Q-tip to sort of squish the moth, and I plucked the twitching moth out of his ear.  And then washed it down the kitchen drain.

Steve proceded to use copious amount of ear drops and flush his ear repeatedly, and then took the longest shower ever.

I'm pretty sure we're both traumatized. 

And I'm no longer allowed to leave the outside light on for him.  Y'know, so the moths won't congregate around the door.  I'm okay with that.