Saturday, July 31, 2010
You know I have issues with bugs, right? At least you know I have issues with centipedes. Although, really, who doesn't? Are there any big centipede lovers out there? I didn't think so. I am pretty sure no one cried foul when the game Centipede came out. In fact, it was probably a smashing hit because everyone wants to blow those little buggers to bits. But, I digress.
I lived on my own quite some time before I met B so I was forced to be the big bug killer, or ignorer, as the case may be. I thought I was tough. Never did kill spiders though because I figured they would do their job and kill the rest of the bugs. Hopefully I didn't swallow any of them in the process.
In any event, a while ago I think I slept with a centipede. The thought of it makes my skin crawl this many months later. I was all set for bed, glasses off, bed ready to jump in when I see a dark spot on the ceiling. Mistake #1 - I go to check it out. Mistake #2 - I get REALLY close because I cannot see well without the glasses. It was a frickin' centipede. I ran out of our bedroom screaming like a girl imitating a girl screaming. B was convinced that he needed to kill it, but it couldn't be found. I had no choice but to go to bed with pillows covering my ears, my mouth sealed shut and praying that it didn't like nostrils.
So now that I am spoiled with a boy, a dog and three killer cats, bugs freak me the hell out. I don't want to kill them. I want to run screaming and have someone else step in. This doesn't always work out for me, but a lot of times it does. And, sometimes, like yesterday, there is not even a bug involved. I was going downstairs with a mostly empty bowl of pasta and went to turn off the light when I felt something graze my skin:
Me: Never mind. It was a piece of cheese.
Me; I thought it was a bug.
B: OH. MY. GOD. You are insane.
B: Did you think the cats were going to run up here and save you?
With no cats in sight, apparently not.
Fast forward to this morning. Jersey and I came in from outside and I saw Brad eating something in the dining room. I picked it up, looking like a small wet macaroni noodle and was carrying it to the kitchen garbage, saying along the way:
Me: You eat the strangest things Brad.
Me: Where do you find noodles?
And then I poked it. And then it turned over. And then it was a very wet, but very alive BUG IN MY HAND THAT LOOKED LIKE A CENTIPEDE BUT WASN'T.
The only appropriate response was:
And I screamed. And I jumped. And Jersey came over to help me but she didn't know what the problem was. Then she thought it was playtime. Then I couldn't find the bug. Brad was still in the dining room staring intently at the floor where the bug used to be hoping it would materialize. And I kept shaking my hand while looking for the bug because I COULD STILL FEEL IT. Finally, I found it and threw it in the trash still alive.
I hope it isn't creating an army in there.