John is going to kill me when he reads this. But I just can’t not write about it.
My daughters are… a bit weird. Not weird in the way that they are strange to everyone, just weird in that if they didn’t look like carbon copies of me, I would SWEAR they were switched at birth with…. some princess’ brat.
They are total pantywaists. Never has there been two more whiny, sensitive, fraidy-cat, sissies put on this earth.
OK, maybe the aforementioned princess popped out something that comes close, but I’m guessing that mine take the cake.
We live in SOUTH Texas. Bugs are a fact of life down here. And while we don’t have roaches in the house, it is entirely due to the quarterly visit of the exterminator. And I know what you’re thinking.
Yes. I do.
Krissa, if you would just keep a clean house they wouldn’t come in. Keep the food put away and post little signs around telling them they can’t use the facilities…
WRONG. I’ve done all that. (Put up little signs in English AND Spanish)
SOUTH Texas. People who live on The Gulf Coast know about all this.
Anyway, since they were mere babies, if they saw a roach, or spider, or mosquito hawk, heck, you name it. Anything. They screamed for me. I became the “go to guy” for all things icky.
Damn you and your consistent job history, John! I was the one there with them, murdering bugs raising them and being their knight in shining armor.
Well, that was all a bunch of crap. I thought they’d grow out of it. They are TWENTY AND TWENTY-ONE years old, now. Do you know how many times I have heard, “MOOOOOOM! COME QUICK!”, and gone charging UP the stairs second guessing all the way about whether or not I should have brought the pistol with me, only to find a “child” lying on her bed bug-eyed, (HA! “bug”-eyed!), pointing at a roach that is trying valiantly to die due to a toxic chemical barrier it has wandered across?
Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to have the most outrageous run-on sentences? Are you now realizing I don’t care?
So I calmly walk over to the bug, remove my flip-flop, whack it, replace flip-flop and turn to go.
OH, MOM! DON’T LEAVE IT THERE!
Yes, I have made them clean up their own murder scenes in the past. It’s just a lot less drama to snatch a tissue or bit of toilet paper and do it myself.
AANNYWAAAAAAY, yesterday morning, I was sleeping in and all of the sudden the bed was bouncing and Kes had thrown herself across it and John, who had yesterday off was standing there. They are looking at me saying things about a lizard in highly excited voices.
Let’s be honest here. I was SOUND asleep when they came in. A gentle whisper in my ear would have sounded frantic to me.
So they’re saying something about come quick and lizard and Purzza, our ancient gray house cat. So, like an idiot, I do. I leap out of bed, (Once again wondering if I need the pistol.) I mean pandemonium, people.
They hustle me down the hall and into HACK. (Longtime readers, will know that this stands for HalfAsstic Central Kommand. It is also the dining room. Whatev.)
Kes has explained by this time that Pruzza had a “HUGE” lizard in her mouth and Kes “thought it was a snake”, and swatted Purzza so the poor thing would drop it and it’s a lizard and it’s “HUGE! I MEAN HUGE”!
It occurred to me later to wonder why on earth she would want the cat to drop it if she thought it was a snake, but I never really got a good answer for this.
So I walk over and pick up the poor lizard and rinse him off under the tap, since he is hopelessly tangled in a dust bunny from behind the wine fridge, and take him outside.
He thanks me politely, sympathizes for a moment with me about the crazy people in my house and lets me know that Purzza still has good reflexes for such an old cat.
He moves off into the grass.
When I come back in I am looking for the MAN of the household. Hummm, there he is. Looking all sheepish.
Kes pipes up and says, “Dad was never gonna be able to catch that lizard, Mom. He was trying to use a paper towel to grab it.”
I dissolved into hysterical laughter and I’m not sure, but I think John blushed.
It’s a good thing he’s so damn cute.
Comment by Red Hamster on March 3, 2011 at 11:54 am
Put up little signs in English AND Spanish LOL
Having been a single mom of two daughters for years, and hence the only one available for spider, centipede, etc. control……I understand exactly what you are saying.
However, once I married Meester, I was happy to let him become the knight.in.shining.armor of bug slaying. Thank goodness, because I really can’t stand the sight of bug guts.
Comment by Krissa on March 3, 2011 at 12:15 pm
I am sure you realize that there is an exact science to bug squishing. Swing the flip-flop too lightly- merely injure bug and cause it to panic and run faster.
Swing the flip-flop too hard- bug guts everywhere. Break out the carpet cleaner, kitchen cleaner, wipe it off the shoe, etc.
Really? I think it’s safe to say that we probably know a lot more about bug squishing than we want to.
Comment by Lisa on March 3, 2011 at 6:38 pm
Krissa is the woMAN!!!! lol!!
Comment by Karen on March 3, 2011 at 7:23 pm
Bwahahaha!!!! I love it.
Comment by joanna jenkins on March 4, 2011 at 7:22 pm
I’m the bug killer in this house but honestly, if I ever see a lizard– I’m calling YOU.
Comment by Krissa on March 4, 2011 at 7:41 pm
I AM THERE. BABY! 😉
Comment by Kelley @ Magnetoboldtoo on March 5, 2011 at 2:44 am
We had a DRAGON in our yard once.
Well it was a Blue Tongue Lizard. I lost my shit. Google it and tell me you wouldn’t have too.
Comment by grandmother on March 5, 2011 at 6:19 am
I just spent 2 months in the rain forest of Trinidad where my daughter and her family lives. You want to talk about bugs- how about 4 inch hard shell roaches that fly?! No kidding! My daughter is totally okay with all living things and dispatches them no prob. Even my 8 yr. old grandson does, all the while laughing out loud at the grandmother who is okay with lizards, geckos, and small to medium bugs but draws the line (and starts to scream) at 4 inch flying roaches!
Comment by Krissa on March 5, 2011 at 1:23 pm
I googled that. You win, HANDS DOWN! That thing could eat my lizard for an appetizer.
Comment by Krissa on March 5, 2011 at 1:28 pm
I, too, would be frantically drawing some lines! You know we have large red tree roaches that fly as well, but I’m sure I have never seen anything approaching four inches!
Can you imagine living in, (Somewhere in the orient?), I can’t remember exactly, where they have the giant hissing ones?
Comment by Monet on March 5, 2011 at 10:20 pm
I’m so glad you found my blog…because it brought me to yours and I now have a huge smile on my face. I just moved to Texas in August, and I”m still getting used to all these blogs. And I must admit, I’m a sissy! Thank you for sharing your creativity with me tonight! You are a great writer 🙂 I hope you have a blessed Sunday
Comment by tattytiara on March 6, 2011 at 1:35 am
I’m pretty good with all things creepy, with one exception…
…the one with the ungodly number of legs. I’m only good up to eight. Anything more than that and, well…
…thank god for understanding boyfriends willing to drive an hour with a bottle of raid to cure a bad case of histrionics!
Comment by lceel on March 6, 2011 at 3:15 pm
I was struck by ‘the’ pistol. Not ‘A’ pistol. The pistol.
If I move to South Texas will you protect me?
Comment by Krissa on March 6, 2011 at 3:46 pm
Heh! It’s a Texas thang. And Yes, Lceel, I’m aaaaaall over it! Especially from bugs! 😉
Comment by Semi-Slacker Mom on March 6, 2011 at 4:38 pm
I’m not a big fan of roaches or mice, we have mice, but lizards I can handle.
Comment by Krissa on March 6, 2011 at 5:02 pm
Exactly! What’s scary about a tiny little green lizard? I keep telling my people they HAVE NO TEETH. THEY ARE THE VERY BOTTOM OF THE FOOD CHAIN. OK, except for the BUGS THEY EAT!
I’ll take a lizard over a bug anytime.
Comment by Roger on March 6, 2011 at 10:41 pm
Um, I’m with John on this one – those critters are icky! 😉
Jenni, however, makes me put my pants on and deal with this crap so I really can’t hide behind my fear of all things creepy and/or crawly. Then it’s up to the animal/bug to make their move. If they look like they are coming after me – they die. If they are good about me getting them out of my house, they live until the next creature up the food chain decides it’s time for a snack/meal. I’m not really caring at that point. Now if they somehow manage to survive and become real life monsters, they will know that I was the compassionate one and spare my life – right? If not, then I hope they make it quick. 🙂
Comment by Krissa on March 7, 2011 at 7:38 am
Awww, Roger! Such compassion for our little green friends! Next time you see the Geico gecko, just think about how happy my little guy is. Unless he died of shock as soon as I went back inside…
Comment by Krissa on March 7, 2011 at 7:48 am
BWAHAHAHA! I think that totally makes sense! Number of legs to icky, ratio. That is a REAL thing. And, well, the boyfriend coming to the rescue? Keep that one!
Comment by K on March 7, 2011 at 12:51 pm
Don’t tell my husband I told you – but he’s needed some help killing a few bugs as well. Funny story.
Comment by Krissa on March 7, 2011 at 4:15 pm
I won’t tell, promise! But you need to indulge in some goodnatured ribbing at his expense! Heh! Men!
Comment by 7 taman langit on March 7, 2011 at 6:16 pm
my regards from Indonesia
Comment by Chief on March 7, 2011 at 7:59 pm
Nice new digs.
It could be worse.. he could smash them with his bare hands and then crawl back into bed.
Comment by Krissa on March 7, 2011 at 8:14 pm
I SWEAR, today he pointed out a tiny spider the size of the end of my pinky and said, “Oh quick! Get a paper towel!” I reached over and smushed it with my thumb and just looked at him.
And yes, I washed my hands.
Comment by Krissa on March 8, 2011 at 11:35 am
How sweet! Thanks Monet! Where abouts are you in Texas?
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