Scary Jumpy Things

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

I had to laugh the other day when I read Molly's mini-tirade on how much she hates the summer bug infestation and relishes in their destruction {I believe "smashthemintoathousandlittlepieces" was the technical term she used}. I laughed because I too have been fighting my own bug battles.

I’ll preface this by saying that I grew up in the coastal South, a place crawling with bugs drawn to the warm, moist environment. A place where we stored our drinking glasses in the cabinet upside down so roaches wouldn't crawl inside them.  And it was no indication of how nice or dirty our house was, it was just the way it was. Everyone had BIG, gross roaches. So I laughed when I moved to DC and people complained about the bugs because A) I rarely saw any and B) if I did they were these puny little things no bigger than my pinky nail. Bugs? Ha.

That is, until we moved last summer....

Our townhouse is three stories, one of which is a basement. It's a finished basement and contains our hangout room, the laundry room, and a guest bedroom. It's a great space and it's always 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the house.

But it's also where the bugs live.

And by bugs, I mean Scary Jumpy Things.

I have no idea what these alien things are but they look like a cross between a grasshopper and a spider and, as their name implies, they jump and they scare the bejeezus out of you.  They are huge, they are not scared of you, and they can jump six feet across a room.

I had almost forgotten about these precious roommates of ours since they were in hibernation for the winter until about a month ago when I stopped frozen in my tracks as I met my summer nemesis while nonchalantly running downstairs to throw in some laundry.  My breezy attitude toward running downstairs has turned into cautious, well thought out entrance worthy of a SWAT team leader on a drug bust.  Every.time. I go downstairs.  I killed at least three last week when Tyler was out of town...


I have a confession though.

And You can't judge me.


I don't clean up the bugs.

Like, after I kill them, I'd rather vomit than feel the crunch in a paper towel between my fingers...

So I just leave on the floor for Tyler to clean up!

Does that make me a bad wife?

Or just a really disgusting person?

I DO throw a napkin or a paper towel over them...

{But it's really just because they're so giant and disgusting that even when they're dead they still scare the bejeezus out of me.}

Part of me knows that it's really an unreasonable fear and you've probably lost all respect for me.  But the other part just says, "You haven't seen these things!!"  They’d scare the bejeezus out of you too.

And THEN...

{No, I'm not done yet.}

I found one in my KITCHEN.  My KITCHEN.  These underlings have so far been confined to the basement... But my KITCHEN?  I have to do the SWAT team entrance in my kitchen now??  It's like living in Savannah and thinking you're safe from a terrorist attack and then hearing of a foiled bomb plot to Forsyth Park… Nowhere is safe. 

I even found one on top of the sofa the other day.  So what do you do if there's a SJT {Scary Jumpy Thing} on your sofa and you can't spray it with bug killer?  You throw six magazines at it from the stairs until it jumps off.

Then you spray it to death.

{Then freak out because an SJT made onto your sofa.}

So ANYWAY.  This whole post is to just share my fears and maybe start an SJT support group.  And support my friend Molly.  And tell you about how SJTs are taking over my house.  And how I’m not happy about it.

I’m with you, Molly!  Let’s smashemintoathousandlittlepieces.  Or in my case sprayemdeadinthemiddleofthelivingroomandnotcleanthemup….

Down with the Scary Jumpy Things!!  Who’s with me??

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