I had a friend whose theory of the universe is: Women have periods. Men kill bugs. An equitable distribution of labor. However, this is not always possible.
I shared a summer beach house with a cheerleading squad and their male entourage. Full disclosure: I am not, nor ever have been of the cheerleading species. We returned from a drunken evening to a seven year locust. The guys fled the house leaving the squad to deal. And as women do, someone took a cup, placed it over the bug, slipped a plate underneath and ran to the door and released it into the night air and the guys. Of course, this was done amongst much screaming. My role? An interested observer , ready to bolt.
Years ago, I returned to my apartment around 10 at night to be greeted by a cicada. I called my father. “What do you expect me to do?” Uh, fulfill the unspoken contract? Next step, call the originator of the theory . Her advice, which I had used before was vacuum it up. So, amongst much hysterical screams, vacuumed the cicada in the living room and barricaded myself in the bedroom. Next day at work, my manager asked why I was looking so peaky. He told me that vacuums don’t kill bugs. Now, this was a man who was such a tease, his children tried to smother him one evening. Could he be right? Yes. I came home and it had just about crawled out. I ran the vacuum for over an hour and smothered that sucker.
During my first, ill fated marriage, I started to grow out my dark brown hair. It was at the point where it could barely be put up and it would fall down. I love to read, especially in the bath. I was upstairs in the bath with the latest Patricia Cornwell. Outside the corner of my eye, I see something brown. My hair? NO!!! Movie spider. SCREAMING!! Jumped out of the tub, dropped the book, grabbed it and levitated out of the room. Husband comes up. No big deal. NOT!!
So, you see bugs and I don’t agree.
It’s been weird weather, hot and damp. This has caused an influx of spiders, little ants, crickets.
I am also a clutter person. I have all sorts of little piles. My planner with all sorts of papers sticking out is on the floor next to the desk. I also don’t see really well. It’s that over 40 eye thing. I amble into my office room and there is a creature sticking out of the planner papers, a big creature. Something with a body. I don’t kill things with bodies (see above and theory of the universe). I cannot clearly see the creature nor can I tell whether it is alive. Next problem: Usually when confronted with a situation such as this, I scream or whimper. Tom is asleep in the next room as it is early morning. I also scream/whimper when I am falling or losing my balance. This usually causes him to come running to attempt to catch me. It’s not pretty as he is a middle-aged man with asthma. So, I am struggling to suppress my urges and inclinations. Next, my natural inclination is to run. Uh, but I can’t. At this point, I wall and furniture surf, not even walk. Picture me, trying to get out of the room quickly without alarming anyone, i.e. Tom. And why aren’t those cats earning their keep?
Tom does wake up and dispatches the cricket which had been on its back.
However, something as simple and silly hits me hard. I have to come up with a new bug strategy. Another side effect of the mobility issue. I am still holding to the theory of the universe.