I hate, I hate, I hate bugs

Everyone has a fear or two. Let me just say, spiders and other bugs freak me out!

I already wrote about how today exhausted me. See the post below for that information. I walk into my apartment tonight. My first objective, use the bathroom. You know how it is. I walk in the small room and am getting ready to use the facilities when I look down. There is a bee crawling on the floor. It might have been a wasp actually. I know it was something with a stinger.

All by myself, I screamed. Then reality set in, this is not a large monster who will bite my head off in 2 seconds. It is a crippled bug crawling on the tiles of my bathroom. I can deal with this.

I wear boots. I like boots. I don't have to worry about whether or not my socks match my shirt since no one can see my socks. What is the point about the boots? They're good for squishing bugs. Normally.

Composing myself, I decide to step on the bug. Squish.

Problem solved, I lift up my foot. The bug is still crawling.

Okay, panic is trying to set in. I fight it off. Logic is telling me there is no reason to freak out. I'm not allergic to bees. This crosses my mind. Then logic kicks in again and tells me, "But stings hurt."

It is time to squish the bug again. I do this.

Since the first step didn't kill it, I move my foot around, trying to ensure the squishing of the bug.

Now I lift my foot.

This flippin' bug is still moving around.

And then it starts flying!

I scream again. Yes, I did scream again. My neighbors are probably trying to figure out why I'm screaming after midnight.

The bug flew, but not for long. One of the steps was crippling enough to take the distance out of it's flight pattern.

This is when I realize the boots I'm wearing have a pretty decent tread on them. I'm pretty sure I just covered the bug with my foot, I didn't actually squish it.

What am I to do? I spied (with my little eye) my brown boots nearby. I grabbed one of them, checking the bottom and seeing no tread. Hallelujah! I use my right hand as a foot and plant the boot down on the bug. It squished. I heard it.

Happy, I lift up my boot. The bug flew at me! This is a super bug!

Did I scream again?

No, but I wanted to. I ran away from the bug. I gave the bug the evil eye. It stopped flying at that point.

The crawling around was getting slower so I pulled up my courage to try again. Finally, my squishing technique showed success and the bug was dead. It was also in three pieces. I had to make sure.

I discarded the evil bug with the helpful tissue. It is gone, but not forgotten.

2 Comments:

At 1:44 AM, angelia said...

Beth, you are definately the comic relief of the night. I adore your bug story. Hey, everyone has a fear....a fear of bugs is legitimate for many people. Smile!

At 9:32 AM, Firebear said...

People match their socks with their shirt? I thought that was an urban legend.