Since my post last week about our life-threatening encounter with a moth the size of a pigeon* I’ve had a lot of people kindly inform me that moths cannot, in fact, bite.
They keep pestering me with “facts” and “reality”. Ugh. The biggest argument as to why moths cannot bite is that they have nothing to bite with. Apparently moths have a proboscis (instead of mouths full of razor sharp teeth) which really can’t be used to inflict pain on humans.
To help illustrate this concept, I drew a picture of how many of my readers would like me to think of moths from here on out.
Fortunately, I know that these are just a bunch of lies perpetuated by pro-moth organizations, and that the mouths of these winged monsters actually look like this:
Of course, several of my readers see things differently than I. Everywhereist reader Lisa explained that these beasts are responsible for pollinating flowers and help to yield fruit. And Anne noted that not only do these moths not bite, but that she found them to be beautiful, to boot.
As I sit in the corner of my office, wielding a torch (wait … are moths attracted to flames?!) and listening for the nearly indiscernible sound of hairy beating wings, I’ve quietly wondered why so many seemingly sane people are preaching the merits of these creatures. I’ve come up with two equally valid hypotheses.
Hypothesis #1: Everyone is trying to convince me of the harmlessness of moths because the creatures really are harmless. Their super creepy appearance is actually quite cute, and their unpredictable flight patterns are endearing, and not actually cause for panic, stress, or urination due to intense fear.
Hypothesis #2: “Lisa”, “Anne”, and the other pro-moth commenters are trying to convince me that moths don’t bite because THEY ARE ACTUALLY HUMMINGBIRD HAWK MOTHS IN DISGUISE WHO HAVE SOMEHOW LEARNED TO USE A COMPUTER.
So … yeah. OF COURSE they don’t want us to think that moths bite. They don’t want us to catch on to them.
Obviously, I’m leaning towards hypothesis #2.
Consequently, I will be hiding underneath my dining room table, gently sobbing and throwing knives at anything that happens to flutter my way. If you would like to join me, please bring undeniable proof that you are not a moth (a doctor’s note stating that you are human will not, I repeat, WILL NOT be sufficient), and I will let you into my home so that you may help me fight the good fight.
*some details of that event might be slightly exaggerated.