Methinks my life sometimes parallels the dross I watch on telly.
For example, the day after the new series of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here burst on to our screens, guess fa’ hid her very own naisty critter trial?
I always watch Ant and Dec’s show, albeit with the same annual list of moans; like I’ve never heard of half the slebs (in fact, only four out of 10 this year) and how the dangerous animals all seem to be in a distinctly non-dangerous stupor.
Apparently the first episode this year prompted howls of complaint from viewers because there were 20 minutes of ads. Surely naebody watches telly in real time? I haven’t seen an advert for about 10 years.
Some of my own confrontations with various creepy crawlies have been scarier than the show’s best bits. Like my infestation of ants over the kitchen work surfaces. Or the truly Hammer horror episode when thousands of bees burst through plaster up the stairs, invaded the hoose and I’d to fill the hole as the beasties buzzed through. Affa nae fine.
Little did I know, all this time the bee sods have been planning their second offensive.
My very own I’m a Celeb monster
Monday dawned clear and quite hot, so I opened a bittie of my big window in the living room while the sun was belting in. My quine arrived after school, the Toots asking to watch I’m A Celeb because it was too late for them the evening before.
I’d to close the curtains to keep the sun off the screen. Just as Richard Madeley was getting battered with slimy insects, there suddenly came an explosive buzzing in the room, like some kind of siren had gone off. We froze. Coming from behind the curtains.
I crept across and peeked round them. Loons and quines, I dinna ken if ye’ve ever seen a muckle huge queen bee. Well, this one was double that size. Spik aboot a bosker. Like a black golf ball. Squeaky-bum time – in spades. Nice Nana, I didn’t indicate to the wee yins that we were playing host to our own I’m a Celeb monster moment, played it cool and muttered something aboot leaving it to flee oot again.
Sure enough, within a few seconds, the buzzin’ suddenly stopped. Phew. I went to close the window. Then – mummy, daddy, helpmakilt. The Black Beast, which had obviously been lying in wait, flew at me the moment I drew back the curtain. Our combined scraiks must have been heard in Clatt.
Eventually I got the queen in front of my EE and wafted her back to nature
Like a victory lap, she buzzed roon the room, then back to the window. Plottin’ and shakkin’, I grabbed an Evening Express and – fit bravery – tried to guide it oot. Went to open the window wider, but it wouldn’t budge, shouted at my cowerin’ quine to give me a hand. Eventually, it gave way, I got the queen in front of my EE and wafted her back to nature.
How come this royal stinger is still buzzin’ aboot in November? And, remember, aye keep an EE by yer side!
