The night before we headed to the Lake District, we traveled to the home of a mission buddy of Carrie's. His name is Sheldon and he is about the nicest guy. We didn't get to his house until midnight and Sheldon was eagerly waiting up for us even as the rest of his sweet family slept. Little did I know that staying with Sheldon and his family would bring me to one of my greatest adventures yet in England . . . slugs.
I know, you probably think I'm being dramatic. Whatever. This is a true story. Since it was so late at night, Sheldon only had the light on in the dining room which dimly lit up the family room. We sat in semi-darkness as we talked and I gradually felt my eyelids begin to flutter shut.
As Sheldon said good night we started preparing for a night with few comforts. He offered us what he had: two thin, fleece blankets, and a blanket big enough for a twin-sized bed. At first I stared--there were five us. I settled in for a long, cold night.
Sheldon came back. "Oh, yeah. There's a hole in the corner of the living room and we get the occasional slug. We've tried everything to stop it . . . salt, plugging it, you name it, but they always come back. Don't worry, we don't get them too often, just be aware."
Slugs? Whatever. I looked to the wall that he pointed at, the light now on, and didn't see anything. I figured it was like when you know there are spiders in the house. You see them occasionally, but they don't really bother you.
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