Killing Bugs!

Ugly things, crawling in places where living creatures shouldn't be able to cling, moving faster than I can with a shoe in my hand! I hate bugs! Have since I was a kid. I'm scared of them too. One of the earliest home movies Dad took was one where my younger sister ferociously killed a bug with a raggedy Andy doll, and then taught me how to do it, with much bashing of the doll on the hapless corpse of the spider unfortunate enough to meet up with her. I think we were 2 and 4 at the time.

Being bigger than the bug doesn't help. When I was a little bit older I was in a downstairs half bath and out from behind the toilet crawls a tarantula. My feet came off the ground. I cried out for Mom to no effect. I was trapped in there until it crawled to the other side of the small room and I was able to leap from my feet upon the toilet seat perch to the step in front of the doorway and escape. I'm sure I then ran to tell mother, but somehow that image fades into vagueness while the crawling of the very large spider along the wall is as vivid today as it was when I experienced it.

Killing bugs is daunting. They seem to want to live really badly and are hardy enough that sometimes you have to kill them more than once. There are several cans of bug spray, of various strengths and for various species, in my cleaning cupboard. In a pinch a can of hair spray will do the trick. But the flying bugs are the worst. They not only avoid the spray with lightning speed, they fly right at you in the process making you run squealing for cover. It usually takes a few moments to gather ones courage when a bug has flown at you nearly ending up, Eek!, in your hair. Shudder! After your nerves are no longer in flight mode and you've gathered your courage together, along with a weapon bigger and nastier than the previous one, you creep out of the adjoining room to try again. No woman in her right mind wants bugs in her home.

So you can imagine my dismay to discover that roaches seem to like my boys' litter box. The youngest is often found in the early morning hours sitting intensely focused in front of it waiting for the roach to reappear. This morning it had escaped Hooboo to make its way into the bathtub. So there I was watching this ugly, medium sized, brown thing with legs I knew all too well from magnified pictures, scuttling around the bottom of my tub. Fortunately it didn't seem to be able to get up the sides. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for me (it didn't get out), Hooboo seemed to not want to get into the tub to chase it. When I tried to put him in there to take care of his bug destruction duties he jumped right back out and snuggled up to my ankle purring. So it was up to me and I didn't feel armed enough with a wad of paper in my hand. I went and got a shoe that 1) I didn't intend to wear today (Eew! Bug slime!), and 2) was way much bigger than the bug! Bam! Bam, bam! It took me two attempts to manage to smash the thing and I made sure the laces were gathered in to give it nothing to suddenly scurry up towards my descending hand. Finally, SPLAT! It was blessedly and thoroughly squashed! I was safe to gather it in some toilet paper and flush it into the sewer system. Whew! Now I just need to disinfect the bathtub and find something with a healthy residual effect to spray around the litter pan. I hate bugs!