Sprinkled with Flour (Beetles)

So as a student, I have Home Ec. as an elective. I love cooking and sewing, so I figured it would be the perfect class for me, right? Right. But apparently, if you dislike bugs, Home Ec. may not be the best choice. “But Emma,” you ask, “why would Home Ec. have anything to do with bugs? It is literally a class about sewing. Sewing ≠ Bugs.” Right you are! You are brilliant, being able to make that impossible connection. Good job, reader.

But, Home Ec. is also about cooking, and food needs to be stored. And if you store food in musty cabinets, you’re bound to get flour beetles. On the scale of terrifying bugs, 1 being ladybugs and 100 being gigantic poisonous spiders, flour beetles are probably about a 2. Seriously, most of the things are smaller than I can even pinch my fingers. The only thing remotely gross about them is the fact that there can be a lot of them since they are so tiny. Otherwise, they’re pretty chill.

Unless they are in the cabinet that you and your slightly squeamish  friend have been assigned to clean. Then they become a slight issue.

Now its not like we were forced to do this, my friend was literally looking for things to do. It was simple, clean out the cake cabinet, wipe down the things inside.

But there may be a few bugs. 

The dreaded phrase that made us wary of our impending doom.

We trudged into the kitchen. Just a few bugs, no big deal, right?

Apparently a few bugs are quite a big deal.

So we headed to the kitchen, and found  the cabinet marked Cake Supplies.  We opened it, and, suprise suprise, there were a few bugs.

If you consider a few bugs a small colony of flour beetles.

So I gritted my teeth, and began to pull out the boxes. And then I gagged. And then I continued to pull out the boxes. I shoved them onto the counter, using extreme care to not touch the sides.

“So, um, I’m going to clean out the sprinkles” She mumbled.

“Wait, what? We were assigned to clean out the cabinets and reorganize things. Not clean sprinkles.”

“I know, but I’m just gonna clean the sprinkles.”

I sighed and started wiping down the cabinet. I think at that point I was pretending I was taking down a village. I also think at one point I whispered, “Haha, I’m murdering your family.” But don’t mind my sadism. Things were going as well as they could have been, considering the close proximity to bugs, until I heard the sound of half a bottle of sprinkles being spilled ALL. OVER. THE. FLOOR.

 I paused my murderous plight of bug demise to observe the disaster behind me. I saw about three things.

  1. About 1/4 a bottle of sprinkles on the floor.
  2. Another 1/4 in a glass bowl.
  3. None of the boxes organized.

The gist of the following shame-filled conversation was that mistakes were made, sprinkles were spilled, and we have ,give or take, five minutes to clean everything up. Typically that seems pretty plausible, five minutes, two willing people, right?

Wrong. We still had one problem. Chelsea refused to go anywhere near the bugs. So guess who put the bins away, because the bins “Could still have bugs in them!”

I hurriedly stuffed the bins onto a cart, pushed the cart back where it belonged, and finished murdering bug families wiping down the cabinet. Luckily we were saved by a few wet paper towels. We scrubbed the bowls, grabbed our backpacks and were seated by the time the bell rang. Thank you, acquired dish washing skills.

Thanks for reading! I know it’s been over two months a while since my last post, but hopefully I should be uploaded every Wednesday and Sunday! If you liked this story or have any constructive criticism, I would definitely appreciate your comment. Once again, thank you for reading and have a lovely day! 🙂


Mount Sunflower, the 51st state.

Ah, the glory that is school. A glorified prison where they hold petulant kids captive for six or seven hours a day. School contains smart people, not-so-smart people, pervs(a story for another day.), nerds, goths, and people like James(whose name has been changed on the off chance someone from my school read this). Ah, James. A weird interesting kid, who was about as sensible as he is tall. Which is not very. More than anything else, James seems to be gullible. Not gullible in the “It says gullible on the ceiling!” kind of way, more of a “I am literally not using logic to process what I’m hearing.” kind of way. He is not necessarily dumb, just not necessarily smart.

Example A:  When we were in seventh grade, I convinced him my name was Hermione. He believed this for two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS, JAMES. TWO WEEKS.

Example B: Today, I was playing a friendly round of “If you guess all these random trivia questions you get a Goldfish cracker” with my friends. The current question was “Where is Mount Sunflower located?” A fairly easy question. If you happen to be living under a rock, or off doing more interesting things than studying geography, Mount Sunflower is the highest point in Kansas, and it looks akin to this:

ev c

Overwhelming, right? So I’m deep into a match of IYGATRTQYGAGC, and over comes James. Now at first we ignore him because the stakes are high. At the rate of one goldfish per eight questions right, things are intense.

Samee: “So, Chelsea, where is Mount Sunflower? For the total of one Goldfish.”

Chelsea: “Er, I think its in Kansa-”


Chelsea:”Yeah, James. Mount Sunflower is my favorite state.”

Me:”Its right next to Tennessee, I think.”


Samee: “Did that really just happen? Wow.”

Me: “Yes. Yes it did.”

James, later: “WAIT”

Obviously, some people are a bit more ~special~ than others. On a not that different note, Happy Birthday Ethan! Heres to another year.


Hello, world!

So I plan to carry on my mother’s blogging legacy.

No, she’s not dead, don’t worry. She started blogging in 2009 so I was… Six? Seven? Either way, I was younger then I am now, so I have generated quite a lot more stories. Many still involving annoying people at Kohl’s, pets, and you guessed it.. Profanity! What can I say. A cynical mother spawns a cynical daughter. If you still have no idea what I’m talking about, you have most likely not read my mom’s blog. If so, then hi! I’m Emma. I am a self-proclaimed dork and a junior high student. I hope to share with you my mental library of stories, and generally make you laugh, because honestly, that’s what I like to do! Also, typing is easier than writing, (Kids these days, right?) so its easier to say what I want faster and more neatly. Definitely an upside, considering my writing looks like a two year old on caffeine decided to make a masterpiece on the paper. I also like metaphors, If you couldn’t tell.  So write metaphors I will. Anyway, I enjoy writing, and hopefully, you will enjoy reading.

TL;DR- Welcome to my internet hidey hole. My lair. The continuation of the lovely “Where Is the Escape Pod?”(Linked below for all ye who are curious.) I hope you’ll stay awhile.


Where is the Escape Pod?