We Floridians are somewhat the butt of a running joke that the random, dangerous, and ass backwards things seem to happen here. Unfortunately, we tend to live up to this stereotype by constantly proving it true. People wonder why I'm such a neurotic mother and I'm beginning to wonder if my locale doesn't have a smidgen to do with it.
For instance, it's tough to deny that we live among some crazy prehistoric animals. From those massive dragon flies to the gators I've spotted around my lake doing their best George Hamilton impressions (did that reference age me?), to the panthers, to the poisonous frogs (Florida imported to kill our insect problem, which ended up killing people's pets -- great idea, Florida). I've seen mosquitos the size of a house cat and ominous turkey buzzards that may eat me if I take too long to cross the street.
Yep, while much of the country looks out their windows to see scenic winter scapes with deer gracefully meandering about and awaits spring when the cute little bunnies hop in their yards, we look out our windows to find a lizard suctioned to the glass and staring us back, or catch a glimpse a possum (which may be the freakiest looking creature ever created) icily frozen in the headlights. I feel our local wildlife isn't quite as majestic or of-this-Earth, and honestly, I'd like to trade. Though for the times I've showered with geckos (and I have), I'm quite thankful we haven't actually traded. As beautiful as deer may be. I feel like showering with one would take too much of the mystique away, also it would cost a fortune in shampoo.
We are also the state known for sending people out with guns (which they can purchase on a wink and a smile) to hunt them some python. I don't know which is scarier the 12 foot pythons that are taking over the Everglades or the people that are all excited to shoot them? I would want to run into neither in a dark alley.
Though, to be fair, I'm thankful someone's willing to take on that task, beyond thankful.
We've also been known to produce some cults. Last week I read about a doomsday cult teaching 9-year-olds to carry guns for survival purposes. I'm teaching my 8-year-old to carry the 1... for subtraction purposes, is that not the same? Look, in my house we don't get more dangerous than Nerf, but let me tell you -- a suction cup between the eyes isn't fun to pull off. Especially, if it has a little spit on it (that's a family secret).
As if it wasn't enough to concentrate on worrying about the local wildlife, the people out there shooting the wildlife, the extreme temperatures, the hurricanes, the sun damage, Tiger Woods, and the prehistoric bugs, we have sinkholes to worry about.
Really Florida? Sinkholes? So what you're saying is even if I become an extreme agoraphobic (and I'm not ruling that out) I could be sucked into the Earth from my own home, while say, watching a Real Housewives?
I'm thinking of relocating.
PS: After writing this post I was reminded of all the times America's Most Wanted are in Florida! Oh and I found this quote on Florida Traveler: "...And look in the trees of South Florida where squirrel monkeys, vervet monkeys, and rhesus monkeys are playing. They look cute, but some are escapees from medical research centers."
Cute escaped research monkeys frolicking in the trees, and escaped convicts hiding out. Awesome...
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