Let me start off by saying this ... "I HATE LOCUST!" Sorry. I don't mean to confuse you. Let me rephrase that ... "I HATE LOCUST EXOSKELETONS!"
I'm pretty sure if there were a plague of locusts I would scream like a banshee but I have not witnessed a plague yet. Thankfully.
Growing up my brothers would somehow find a locust exoskeleton on a tree and chase me around the yard trying to put the little demon from hell on my head. The running plus the screaming plus the hyperventilating almost made me pass out. Thankfully, mom would step in and throw down some wholesome justice with the phrase "Leave your sister alone!" She said it in that mom tone that meant the next thing she did to put law and order back into our family would be whoopin's. Whoopin's is a country technial term that meant mom would give you spankings followed by the automated message "Wait until your father gets home." Which led to further spankings.
While being a good neighbor this past weekend and trying to tiddy up the yard I came across an exoskeleton attached to the side of my house.
First, I thought maybe my brothers drove the two hours it takes them to get to my house and placed it where they thought I would see it. But I realized that gas prices are too high for shenanigans. Second, I was proud of myself for not screaming like a little girl, running to the corner of my yard, curling up in the fetal position, and sucking my thumb. Go me! Third, I still HATE exoskeletons. I put my yard gloves on to flick the creepy alien off the wall and I was sure to use my middle finger.