Are You Squeamish?

I enjoy listening to stories, especially when the story-teller creates a story in such a way that it feels like it were happening right at that moment. I don't know about for you, but there are some things that don't need a good story teller in order for me to feel the story. Stories of miracles make my heart dance. Stories of worms make my stomach churn. Stories of lice make my head itch. 

In an earlier post I was telling you about the pantry in my house and my discovery that a lot of the food was unclaimed. Well, the other day I was making something with an egg, and I wanted to stretch it, so I decided to add a bit of flour. Taking out a leftover bag of flour, I took a partial cup of it and was about to dump it into the bowl when I saw it. Subtle, yes; but one of the mounds in the flour moved. Taking out a sieve, I let the flour fall through, and, when all was said and done, there lay three little bugs, writhing in the bottom of the sieve. ...

What was I supposed to do? 

After a short time of contemplation, I ate my supper, trying not to think of the bug eggs that might still be in it, then made a mental note to freeze any flour I would buy in the future.