When I was little, our kitchen sink had a bright light just above it. In the summer evenings, Mom would leave the back door open for air, and moths would come to knock stupidly against the light. One night, a moth flew into my momï¿½s ear while she was washing dishes. It was still alive, so she could feel it fluttering in panic as Dad drove her to the hospital to have it removed with an extra-long pair of tweezers.
After twenty years, thinking of this incident still provokes my gag reflex.