Can I just say something?
I would love nothing more than to send this subject matter to the (me) and the bee vaults forevermore. I do not want to write yet ANOTHER post on our hellish insect problem but, based on the events of Sunday evening, it’s unavoidable.
Mind you, since the last time I wrote of our cricket woes and this past Sunday night, we were living what one might consider “insect free”. It was glorious, albeit short-lived. I am not one to tempt the fates so I kept my big trap shut about us being mostly rid of our infestation. The first batch of glue traps we bought were overflowing with the bodies of ill-fated hoppers and we finally had the decency to dispose of them Sunday afternoon before setting up new carcass-free traps to catch and collect any tiny stragglers.
Do you remember my saying how the crickets we had been catching were just baby-sized? Like, not even the full-grown HORROR-movie-sized proportion the adults can develop into? Do you ALSO remember me saying that as punishment for our killing all the baby crickets the cricket parents would likely be hiding inside shoes and in my underwear drawer poised to spring out and attack us for our thoughtless infanticide?
Well, I almost had to eat my words there. Thankfully, I never found a cricket in my shoes or drawers. I did, however, find a cricket in a place eleventy-thousand times worse than I could have ever imagined…
ON my pillow.
Shall I set the scene?
We have a tiny house and because it’s so tiny we do the best we can to maximize on space. So in lieu of a more traditional sleeper, we have a loft bed which is basically like a bunk bed except instead of having a bed below the top bunk we have a desk/storage unit.
Although our crickets are extreme hoppers (I really cannot emphasize this enough) I typically feel safe in the bed because it’s about 5+ feet off the ground and in my mind a source of sanctuary in our insect filled home.
Boy, was I WRONG about that.
After a great weekend filled with movie-watching and photo shoots, we decide to retire to the bedroom in preparation for the new work week. In my groggy daze I climbed the ladder to our bed with the light in the room switched off because I wanted to make my transition from laying on the couch to laying on the bed as seamless as possible. The only problem with that plan was my being a violent sleeper by nature and as I’ve mentioned in the past, I don’t make the bed regularly so the blankets were all balled up at the bottom of the bed and I couldn’t make heads or tails of them in the darkness. This was when the bee suggested he turn on the light so I might see what I was doing and thank fucking GOD he did, because this is what happened next:
I just barely made it to safety from psycho-ninja cricket. To say I was traumatized by the event is putting it mildly. I had the bee re-check my hair for cricket multiple times because I wasn’t entirely convinced that crazy bitch wasn’t clinging to me somewhere in the hopes she could do her darndest to me mid-slumber.
Lucky for us, we have a pull-out bed that we slept on that night because there wasn’t a chance in HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL I was going back into bed with that knife wielding maniac after me.
We never did find her so we’re still sleeping on the pull-out.
Pray for us…
To read this mess from the beginning, click here.