Scary Creatures

I’m tired of finding scary bugs in scary places. Last time I changed my sheets I uncovered a black spider just sitting there under my fitted sheet, right where I always sleep. It must have been divine providence that I chose to change the sheets at just the right time to discover and kill him. Creepy. And then there’s the shower incident. I’m standing there, face full of soap, I pull my washcloth toward me under the spray, and an Earwig falls out of it (without contacts I have to assume it was an Earwig). I can tell you I dropped that washcloth like a hot potato and couldn’t WAIT to get out of that shower.

I’ve learned to check the shower for bugs before getting in, but I never thought to check my washcloth. I know these small creatures can’t hurt me, but they sure scare the bee-geesis out of me! I don’t like them and I don’t want them in my house. But, since I refuse to move to a concrete jungle, I have to accept sharing space with the intruders. Some of them are so creepy that I physically cannot kill them without letting out a series of embarrassing girl shrieks and hopping around like a mad woman. Just approaching for the kill raises my anxiety to dangerous levels. What if it moves? Oh, I don’t want to see it move! Can it jump at me? Oh, I hate this. Why do I have to do this myself?

But I am a strong, independent grown-up woman, so I do the thing that frightens me. I’d love to say I am stronger for it, but next time I’m faced with a big ugly spider don’t be surprised if you hear me whimpering like a school girl!