Dear Unwanted House Guests,

Just because I titled this entry as a Friends episode does not in any way imply that you are my friends. I don’t like you. You are not welcome. Pack your bags and get out. I am grown woman, hear me squeal. From atop my chair where I am standing.

Respectfully,
The New Owner of the Home

See, I told you I’d have something interesting to say by today. As I’ve said before, I am trying to switch to natural cleaners, so when it came to the unwanted house guests, I felt the same. Shortly after we moved in, I noticed several ants coming in through a vent or a window, not sure which. Those little teeny tiny black ants. Not okay, but if I had to choose one home invader, this would be it. They are annoying, pesky, and persistent little buggers. So to my beloved computer I went in search of a natural ant remedy. Well turns out there is a laundry list of this that ants do not care for. Cinnamon being one of them. Terrific I thought! I can sprinkle this around the vent, block the entry and freshen the room all at the same time. I admit, I was beaming with green-ness. Money saved: check. Better for the environment: check. Not gonna hurt the kid if he gets into it: check check. I cornered an ant for a cruel experiment, everywhere he turned, I tapped my cinnamon shaker in his path, and he avoided it like the plague until I had him encircled at which point he scampered over the cinnamon as quickly as possible and high tailed it back where he came from. Or I might have killed him, I forget. ANYway, like I said, I was so busy patting myself on the back for a job well done, that it wasn’t until a few days later until I noticed a whole herd flocking to the drips of sugared frosting in the bottom of the dishwasher like party goers to a spiked punch bowl. It was like a mosh pit around a dime sized spot below the plates. Disgusted, I ran the dishwasher on rinse, reinspected, then washed the dishes on ridiculously high settings like high temp wash, sanitize, etc. I grabbed my cinnamon shaker again, and laid down a solid line around the vent and the side door near the dishwasher. Once again, job well done. Until I noticed the damn marching parade on the counter yesterday! Okay, you win, I am officially annoyed with your presence. Get out, get out, GET OUT! Back to the internet I went. I’m no longer satisfied with a deterrent, it is time to get down and dirty. I searched for natural ant killer. I admit, I was about to send hubby to Walmart for the black market stuff when I saw a recipe to try first. I dumped some sugar and warm water in a cup lid, then plopped in a heaping spoon of Borax (one of my new cleaning agents, the one that actually is found on the laundry aisles in most grocery stores, however I am still on my quest for washing soda). I mixed up my lethal combination an then spilled it right into the middle of the parade. The marching came to a screeching stop. I watched a few line up to take the forbidden fruit, then went and brushed Caleb’s teeth. When I returned a few minutes later, there were more like ten ants there. I put Caleb to bed, and upon my return, found more like 40 or 50. We watched a movie, and by the end of the movie, there were only a few stragglers. So I can only assume that they were drawn to it, drank it, and then went off, to …well you know…die! Wanna know what happens? I know you do. According to Yahoo Answers, I say this so that I can blame them if someone smart comes along and says that’s horse manure, it doesn’t happen like that…so according to Yahoo Answers…you ready for this? It gives em gas. Yep. That’s it. Turns out ants can’t fart. Hey! There’s something you needed to know! Scott came by to inspect the progress at one point last night and said, “I see no exploded little ant parts on the floor.” We are sick, twisted individuals. So once again, I am patting myself on the back for being green. I *think* I saved myself some money too, because the ant bait I was about to send hubby to the store for…the main ingredient is none other than boric acid mixed with a sweetener to attract the ants.

So moving along, because, yes, this is titled bugs. As in the plural. Reinspection this morning only turned up a lonely one or two ants looking around like ‘where’d everybody go?’ We headed off to the library, which is totally irrelevant to the rest of the story, but I thought I’d throw it in there to update you on yesterday’s crucial post. I know you were on the edge of your seat. Turns out the do have a story time. It was, of course, yesterday. But that kind of works out because we acquired ourselves a library card, and checked out several books today. We will have them for a week, and can return them next Tuesday at story time, then get some more afterwards. I was pleasantly surprised by the library, they had a separate children’s room downstairs, which is sort of nice to not feel like you are interrupting others when you tell your toddler to whisper for the 57th time. In five minutes. We returned home just in time for lunch before naptime. As Caleb was finishing up his yogurt, I was unloading the dishwasher. I went to put something away in the laundry closet, which is only a few feet from the kitchen table. When I opened the door, I shrieked, jumped back, clutched my chest and gasped. In that order. Staring back at me was this:

Yes, HE HOPS.

I cropped the picture as such to give you a perspective of his ridiculously long antennae. As you can see, it goes all the way to the edge up the picture, at least twice as long as the bug itself. I assure you this was taken from several feet away with a zoom lens, the full sized picture makes him look like a speck on the concrete.  But he was big.  Seriously.  I doubt his body and legs would have fit on a half dollar.  And once you get above dime sized in my bug book…you’re too big and icky for me to kill with out a lot of drama and freaking.

Seconds after spotting him, the phone rings.  It’s my mom.  Of course.  I’m flipping out, and honestly wondering to myself if I can convince my husband to drive 40 minutes home from work to get it for me.  Probably not.  Plan B.  “Well can’t you just scoop him up in a paper towel and take him outside?”  Uhm.  Nooooo!  My mom is full of wonderful suggestions.  “Well what does he look like?  How many legs does he have?  Pinchers?  What color is he?  What shape is his body?  Hold on, let me get my bug pocket dictionary.”  Uhhh, I’m havin a little crisis here!  I don’t care what he is, I just want him back outside where he belongs!  You know, this is the type of bug that is too big to squish, I mean you don’t want to have have to break out the touch up paint for the wall!  Ew, ew, ew.  So I’m flailing around the kitchen, Caleb is being loud as usual, singing to his food, about his food, about the bug, giving a running commentary of the events and shrieking every time I shriek.  Finally I decide on a recently washed JIF peanut butter jar waiting to be recycled.  Of course the damn this is perched on uneven woodwork.  So I pull up a chair to climb in.  Why, I don’t know.  Perhaps, despite the fact that I’m 200 times his size, I need to feel superior to the bug in height, since he was clinging to the woodwork about eye level.  I also need to have a prepared launching pad, should he feel the urge to jump at me.  If he jumps and lands on the floor, I’m prepared too, since I’m perched in the chair.  Really, the chair was just the safest bet for all concerned parties.  “Rachel, calm down, don’t make Caleb afraid.  He’s not going to hurt you.  I like bugs!  Can you take a picture?”  Moooooooom!  So finally I get the JIF jar over the bug and he goes into spring mode and starts bouncing off the jar.  After several tense seconds, I got the lid screwed on.  Tightly.  I showed him to Caleb, who had coated most of his face, bib, and the table with yogurt painting by this time.  “Ew.  He is buggy.  And jumpy.” he proclaimed.  So the above pictures were actually taken mostly for the benefit of my mother.  I’m sure she’ll break out the picture dictionary to identify him in the unlikely event that she does not recognize him off the top of her head.

Yep, it has been a busy day.  Believe it or not, none of these events were exaggerated in the least for story-telling purposes.  So all of you bug loving people, just go ahead and get a good laugh at my expense.  It’s okay.  I know I’m ridiculous.

Comments

One Response to “the one with the bugs”

    Amber
    May 29th, 2008 9:28 am

    I think it might be a grasshopper . . . or a huge cricket. But still, GROSS!!! :)

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