Last night I was going through my bedtime routine - make sure the doors are locked, drapes closed, wine bottles put in the recycle bin - when I heard a tapping, tapping at my back door. I went to see who it was and found no one, confused I left expecting more.

Thankfully the irresistible pull of the routine kicked in and I was drawn to the bathroom where I completed my nightly fun:
Wash face, brush teeth, take contacts out, scratch the boys, and done.

Routine completed I headed for the bedroom when again I heard a tapping, flapping the same as before.
I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep unless I determined the source of the mystery at my back door.

The house was dark except for the bathroom light that poured into the hallway.
I maneuvered around my son's Legos and Matchbox cars that had been previously played with that day.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It had moved to the window I was certain
due to the swaying of the curtain.
My heart wildly beating,
I kept repeating, "It's not Michael Myers, it's not Michael Myers."

I flung the curtains open to face my doom
and swoosh, a shadow flew past my ear and into the dining room.
My hand found the light switch and there he was on the wall,
a killer Miller moth six feet tall.

A shiver went up my spine and made my hair stand on end,
a weapon, a tennis racket I needed for myself to defend.
With no racket in view, I took off my t-shirt and prepared to fight,
only one problem, with contacts gone I had lost my sight.

Slowly I crept upon the blur.
On the wall he clung and did not stir.
I had to be quick, I had to be fast,
for I did not want his evil presence in my house to last.
The t-shirt snapped at his location like a whip.
Off he flew, giving me the slip.

The whole room was filled with fuzzy shapes.
Was he on the table, in the light, or did he retreat back to the drapes?
Just then, out of the corner of my eye,
from dining room to the living room the blur did fly.
I did not want this conflict to continue any more,
luckily for me I saw him resting on the hallway door.

I tried to learn from my previous attack.
I held my breath, gripped the t-shirt and gave him a good whack.
This time it was he not I who was the sucker,
as he fell to the ground I said, "Take that, you mother f..."

My heart still crazily beating,
I slipped in to bed and found my wife quietly sleeping.
Head on pillow I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.
I prayed that my neighbors had not seen me wildly, blindly swinging my t-shirt around.

The bottle that went into the recycle bin was a Cabernet from Firestone.
The wine is tasty and should be shared with friends or drank alone.
It has light fruit flavors with a finish that will remind you of pencil shavings.
Priced at $8 a bottle, it is sure pacify to your everyday wine cravings.

Lying in bed, I could still taste the wine upon my lips,
oh how they craved for just a few more sips.
Eventually my thoughts started to drift to some place other,
when I heard a tap, tap, tapping at the window, it was the killer Miller moth's brother.