Written on Tuesday, October 03, 2006 by Jessica
Seth and I stayed at Grandma and Grandpa's last night. It wasn't the original plan, though. Sitting on the couch last night, I noticed spots on the wall. What the heck? I walked over and saw I was infested with ladybugs. Not the real ones, which are unlucky to kill, but some lookalikes that have been infesting houses in the area for the past several years.
I've already discussed my phobia with bugs, especially ones that fly or hop erratically, but the big thing about phobias is that they are irrational. Ladybugs don't bother me. I went to sit back down on the couch when I saw a cricket running across right where I'd been sitting! The horror! Oh, how dearly I hate crickets. How to kill it??
First, I ran to get a glass to trap it, but I simply could not get close enough to trap it. Then I ran for a flyswatter, but when I returned, it was gone. I called my in-laws to ask if they had a minivac, but no such luck. I told her about the cricket. "What am I going to do?? I can't sit on the couch! Not 'til I kill it. But it's gone."
As I was bemoaning the lost cricket, I saw something on the carpet by the loveseat. It looked like some fuzzy lint, but as I approached. "Dear god, it's a stinkbug!" My mother-in-law asked if I wanted to stay there that night. Yes, very much.
I stomped on the stinkbug but couldn't bear to leave the cricket running loose, so pulled the couch away from the wall. Gone. So I gathered up my things and my baby and prepared to run away from the buggy house. That's when I spotted the cricket near the couch. He looked a little smaller, which made me wonder if it was yet another, but I banished the horrific thought, grabbed the flyswatter, and beat on it about ten times. Dead.
I began to consider staying in the house, even though I knew I would dream all night that crickets and stinkbugs were crawling on the baby. (I had similar dreams in the face of the minor earwig population.) But then I looked over, and under the baby's swing, was another cricket. Another beating with the flyswatter, and I was out the door.
I really wish my husband would come back home.