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On the kitchen table was a dull gray arthropod the size of a mature Pit Bull Terrier.
“Ginny Murphy,” I said. “Get here right now and apply this strip to your Collembola!”
I was using my loud and authoritative voice, the one that puts fear into the hearts of men.
“Wait, Daddy,” she called from the living room.
Fear in the hearts of men, not elementary school girls, apparently.