Bugging Me
Let me paint you a picture of the totally glamorous life of a one date wonder on her own. Actually, let me not paint it because that would be gross. Because the picture is of a giant beetle in my apartment.
The first time it happened (oh yes, it’s like that) I was sitting on the couch minding my own business watching TV and surfing the internet on my laptop. I had a drink on the coffee table, I was relaxed, and all was right with the world. Apparently my mistake was blinking. I blinked, and then it happened. There was a giant beetle right in the middle of my laptop screen. Seriously. A beetle.
I did what any normal single gal would do when presented with the situation. I screamed and shoved the laptop off my lap. It hit my drink which spilled all over the coffee table, snapped shut, and fell to the ground. I had already jumped out of my seat and was doing the crazy itchy screamy bug dance over by the front door. And then I had to decide… what was more pressing? Saving my coffee table from water stains or locating and eradicating the giant life threatening beetle now trapped inside my laptop?
The water stains won. I mopped them up and then kicked the laptop into the middle of the room. Armed with a wad of paper towels the size of my head, I jerked the machine open and found…… nothing. Cue the itchy screamy bug dance and a frantic search for the beetle. I found him on the couch in the end, which caused more dancing and a final kill. Unable to deal with the buggy corpse, I took the entire wad and threw it out then went to bed with visions of beetle bugs dancing in my head.
The next morning I was puttering around the place and threw something out in the kitchen trash. My hand brushed something crunchy on the outside of the can so I picked it off without thinking anything of it. A split second later my caffeine deprived brain registered the fact that this crispy bit may actually be a giant crunchy dead beetle and I dropped it. You know what comes next. That’s right, I did the dance. Upon confirming the fact that there was now a beetle corpse on my kitchen floor, there was not a hot enough shower in all the land to calm me down. I don’t know how I finally got the courage to grab a paper towel and dispose of the body, but somehow I did. There may or may not have been screaming involved.
Don’t even get me started on the second time. I mean, unless you really want to laugh at me some more.
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Be thankful it wasn’t a chipmunk …
My beetles will eat your chipmunk. Bring it.
Please, continue with the second time.
I need a laugh.
I’m skittish about stepping in spilled water while wearing socks. Hate it.
I once stepped in cat poo in my bare feet, does that count?
ROFLMAO – don’t feel bad.. I do the same thing with spiders.. I have a serious phobia. Matthew just laughs at me then WITH HIS BARE HAND picks the thing up and lets it outside.
Boys are weird.
Oh gross! Gross gross gross. I hate bugs so very, very much.
I won’t tell the beetles where you live.
Brad Paisley has an album cut called “You Need a Man Around Here.” Most of the song supports G. Steinem’s observation that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, but one line says, “Someone to kill the spiders, change the channel and drink the beer.” Yeah, the “kill the spiders” thing is pretty on the money.
Can we expand it to bugs in general? I mean, spiders wig me out like nothing else. But what I have are beetles!
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Ugh – I am with you when it comes to bugs. My son put a temporary tattoo of a ladybug on my arm the other day and I spent the entire day alternately flinching and screaming every time I caught a glimpse of it. I couldn’t wash that thing off fast enough!
I’m sorry… I really just had to laugh at the visual here.
Sounds like you had a great night dancing.
Perhaps it’s a new fitness program?
I laughed out loud at this post, I SO KNOW that dance!!
Come on, you know it’s sexy.
OMG – we ARE twins!!!!!!!!!!!! I have actually called friends in the middle of the night to come to my apartment and kill bugs. I’m not proud of this fact. Oh wait. Yes I am.
I would have called someone to help f I could have figured out who. No lie.
Reminds me of my recent, early morning discovery of a mouse in my kitchen. I saw it and screamed at the top of my lungs. I’m not sure what I was expecting to happen BUT I was hoping that one of the dogs would “take care” of the damn thing.
Remind me to buy you a drink and tell you the story of the mice in the kitchen at my old house. I understand completely.