The Tale of Me & My Frying Pan

I smile as the movie fades to black and the credits roll with an upbeat song by Mandy Moore. Yes, the movie is Tangled, and yes. I’m in love. Who couldn’t love a story filled with humor, chameleons, Flynn Rider, and frying pans?

My sister stands up and starts to dance. I grin. This is shaping up to be the best birthday ever. My day consisted of Skyping with friends and cheesecake. What could be better?

I just wish it didn’t have to end. That’s the trouble with birthdays. They always end before you want them to.

My sister continues to dance, and in the background, I notice my cat, Tuxedo, on top of our oak entertainment center. I frown. He doesn’t normally get up there, so why is he….?

“Whoa,” I say. “What is that?” I point to the ceiling. My mom turns to look, and I slowly stand.

“That’s the centipede I saw earlier this week,” my mom says with realization in her voice. I gasp and walk over to inspect. There is a giant centipede on my ceiling.

There is a giant centipede on my ceiling!

“Oh my gosh,” my brother says, walking over to the scene. We now all stand below the aforementioned centipede, forming a cluster of gaping mouths and widened eyes.

“What do we do?” I ask. It’s not everyday an insect with a hundred legs shows up on my ceiling. That rarely happens. If ever.

“Um… well…” Mom pauses. “We’ll have to use a broom.”

“Got it.” I race up the stairs into our kitchen, and grab the broom from the small space in between our cabinets and the fridge. Urgency propels my steps, but then I stop. My eye catches on the Lazy Susan in the corner. I giggle.

There, in the cupboard, sit a bunch of frying pans.

And what better weapon to use than a frying pan?

Rapunzel has taught me well.

I grab the frying pan, mostly as a joke, and hurtle down the stairs again, to where my gaping family awaits.

“Here,” I say, trying to catch my breath. I thrust the broom handle towards Mom, who takes it and hands it to my brother, bidding him to take care of it. He grasps the broom, looking up at where the centipede is perched on the ceiling. I stand a short distance away, my feet spread apart, holding tightly to my frying pan in a battle stance.

Hey, it’s a long shot, but I can at least be ready with my frying pan, right?

Right.

My brother slowly lifts the broom above his head, then thrusts it upward towards the ceiling. It knocks against the roof, but somehow, it isn’t strong enough to smush that little darn bug up there. Instead, the bug falls.

Well, that was effective.

It seems to happen in slow motion. The centipede plummets in slow motion to the floor. I am ready, frying pan in hand. I run over to the scene as the centipede tries to make its getaway.

So not happening, buddy boy.

I give the ground—and consequently, the centipede—a good whack. Make that two. Or… five. I beat the floor until it cries for mercy. I want to make sure that bug is good and dead.

Rapunzel would be proud.

I finally stop mauling my carpet and take a chance to look at the centipede, which, hopefully, should be dead right about now. I kneel only to see a smashed mess curled up on the carpet. I’m assuming that would be the centipede.

I look up at my family, whose eyes are wide in wonder. I take a look down at the frying pan still clenched in my hands, and I laugh. We all laugh. We bust a gut laughing. Because that was just plain funny.

“You—we just watched Tangled, and… and…” My mom wheezes. “You were so vicious! I had no idea that you were that violent.”

I crack up and look at my frying pan. “Neither did I.”

Oh, the irony. I used the frying pan just like my new favorite Disney princess would. Now I just need to locate Flynn Rider.

Long story short, we have a good laugh and clean up the (non-poisonous) centipede and give it to my sister, the resident entomologist, for further inspection. I twirl my frying pan in the air victoriously. And the rest… is history.

Therefore, we all lived happily ever after.

Even the frying pan.