Posts Tagged "bug"

The One (and only) Way to Tell It’s Actually Summer

Dear Kid,

Flip flops are perfect for summer. DearKidLoveMom.comNow it’s officially summer.

You may have thought summer started when school ended (wrong). You may have thought we needed to wait for the summer solstice on June 20 (wrong). You may have thought that summer started on the first day Dad chose to put vegetable seeds in the ground (not even close).

Summer started two nights ago.

Two nights ago I went to the gym after work. I was little later leaving work than general and I had an errand or two to run, so I was a bit later getting to the gym. Then there was the whole sports bra thing. The point is that by the time I got home and made dinner and Dad and I sat down to eat it was about 9pm or so.

We ate out on the porch and were in the midst of a fascinating conversation about which day we’d tackle the weeding when something caught my attention.


Yes, the fireflies were out and flashing around and it was awesome.

Just in case you were curious, yes, the fireflies flashed in unison and lined up forming the letters SUMMER IS HERE. That’s how I know it’s summer.

Love, Mom

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Oh, the Horror | I Can Never Go Into Our House Again

Dear Kid,

I can never go into my bedroom again.

Might be I can never even go into the house again, but we’ll have to see about that.

You know I have this thing about minding my own business—unless someone else’s business is Interesting (which—truth be told—doesn’t happen all that often).

Mom's Theory of Legs 4 or less is good. Possibly even adorable. More than 4 is highly problematic and likely to cause screaming. DearKidLoveMom.comSo there I was, in our bedroom, minding my own business (and by “minding my own business” I mean quietly putting on makeup and contemplating the day ahead) when Out Of Nowhere appeared a bug. I screeched.

I think you know my theory about wildlife: It belongs in the wild. My house is most certainly not The Wild (although there are people who claim that by harboring Dust Dragons and other Chaos I do not exactly have the calmest of homes).

I think you also know my theory about legs: Four or fewer legs is just dandy. More than that is EEEEEEEEEEK! and SOMEONE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SITUATION!!!!!

I do not like bugs in general.

And this one had more than the usual allotment of legs.

Far more.

Far, far.

Far, far, far.

And let me tell you, that sucker knows how to use those little legs. It is one fast horrid little creature.

Oh, you noticed I didn’t use the past tense? That’s the problem.

As I reached for something (other than the mascara I was holding) to deal a death blow, that bug scooted.

Not only did it scoot, it scooted INTO MY NIGHTSTAND DRAWER!

I screeched (for the second time) but apparently multi-legged evilness is deaf, or perhaps it was running away from the screech. I don’t know much (and by “much” I mean anything) about bug audiology. What I do know is that the damn thing was spotted going into the nightstand drawer and has not been spotted coming out of said drawer.

I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Or possibly in the next county.

Love, Mom


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The Cricket In The Garage

Dear Kid,

There is a cricket in our garage.

It sings. Loudly. I don’t know if it’s male or female. I frequently can’t tell human gender just from voices so I have no shot whatsoever at distinguishing crickets.

Being the investigative reporter-type that I am (stop giggling), I sat down with the cricket to learn more.

Speaking on condition of anonymity (not a problem since we were never properly introduced), the garage cricket shared his/her/its perspectives on life, living, and the garage.

Me: Why the garage?
C: Opportunities for crickets are limited in our society, baby. We are an oppressed community. There is little to no policing of our neighborhoods or yards. Frogs, snakes, and large spiders are allowed to eat us without fear of recrimination.
Me: Wait, spiders?
C: Yes indeedee
Me: Ick. Ok, but why the garage?
C: How often can a cricket of my income level get a large one-bedroom in a gated community?
Me: Gated? Oh, you mean the garage door. Got it.
C: Plus it rarely rains in here and the meal plan is pretty good
Me: Meal plan?
C: You’d be amazed what wanders by…
Me: Say no more. Do you get a lot of, um, companionship in here?
C: Well, I do chirp exceptionally well
Me: TMI.
C: You asked
Me: True. Any chance we can get you to pitch in and help clean the garage?
C: Do pigs chirp?
Me: I take it you aren’t a cleaning sort of cricket. How do you plan to pay rent?
C: I’m releasing a new album later this year. Can I count on you for an order?
Me: Do dogs chirp?
C: Everyone’s a critic
Me: I prefer live concerts
C: Nice recovery. A little late, but nice
Me: Do you take requests?
C: Depends
Me: I request that you not keep us up at night
C: Sorry, baby. Nocturnal. All the best jazz musicians are
Me: You play jazz?
C: Well, more of a jazz/classical fusion
Me: At night
C: Nocturnal. Gotta follow Mother Nature
Me: How do you feel about the current use of the word “crickets” to mean silence?
C: Anyone who stops to listen to my symphonic melody is alright by me
Me: What are your thoughts about Jiminy Cricket?
C: Pretentious dude. Had a bad attack of conscious because he’s really a grasshopper
M: Grasshopper?
C: He’s green. Take a close look
Me: It’s not easy being green
C: Don’t mention frogs. Bad karma
Me: Thanks for talking with me today
C: Stop by any time
Me: You do remember this is my house, right?
C: Details, baby, details

Love, Mom


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Do You Know What An Upside Down Glass Means?

Dear Kid,

The same words can mean different things in different places. For example, “I’m stuffed” in the US means you’ve eaten too much; in the UK it means you’re pregnant.

Actions can also mean different things in different parts of the world.

For example, an upside down glass on the bar in Australia means you think you can fight anyone and everyone in the pub and win. Then again, breathing in Australia means pretty much the same thing.

In some areas, an upside down glass means you’re drinking in memory of someone who has passed away. (“Turn down a glass” therefore means stop for a moment of thought or reflection.)

In some countries, it’s rude to sip or partially drink a shot during a toast. Turning your glass upside down shows you’ve downed the entire shot.

In the US, if you turn your glass upside down, it means you don’t want any more to drink. If the bartender places an upside down glass in front of you, it means someone else has paid for your drink.

In our house, an upside down glass is a sure sign of Wildlife Encroachment.

As in, “Get a glass! Get a glass! There’s a ladybug!”

Theoretically, once a multi-legged critter has been trapped under a glass, it should be released back into the wild where it can do multi-legged critter things (like being eaten by a bird). As long as it’s not in my house, I’m pretty tolerant of multi-legged critters (and by “multi-legged”, I mean more than 4; 4 or less are welcome inside—most of them, anyway).

But to be clear, the more legs there are, the less I want to do with them.

Recently, we’ve had an invasion (and by “invasion” I mean 2) of huge, horrible, jumping, enormous spiders. These guys move lightning fast and cause all sorts of chaos. And by “all sorts of chaos” I mean me screaming, “Yark! Ack! Spider! Get a glass! Someone do something! AAAAAck!” Amazingly, Pi said exactly the same thing when she spotted one.

This is NOT the traditional place for spiders. Or the traditional use of a Wine Glass. We have got to get back to tradition.

Pi and I both buy into the family tradition of bug trapping. We also both believe that Someone Else should be in charge of bug release. Bug release really far away from the house. Like 6 or 7 miles away.

And since the Puppy doesn’t have thumbs, that chore falls to Dad. Which leds to the following conversation.

Dad: I see you trapped a bug
Me: It’s a spider and it’s enormous. Do something
Dad: Why didn’t you take it outside?
Me: Are you insane?
Dad: It’s just a spider
Me: It is an enormous spider. It is a spider bigger than Montana. It moves faster than Superman. Take. It. Out.
Dad: You’re not going to take out one little spider?
Me: It is Not little. And Get That Thing Away From ME!!!!!

At which point Dad chuckled softly and took the spider out. Thus saving a spider and a marriage in one action.

Love, Mom

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Puppy Conversations | How to Get Rid of a Stink Bug and Pi Saves the Day

Dear Kid,


Pi and I both looked up from dinner.


Pi: What is that?
Me: I don’t know
Simultaneously: A stink bug
Pi: Well, excuse me Mister, but you are not welcome in here.

She got up and glared at the bug.

Pi: Out! Wait.

She opened one of the sliding doors on the porch.

Pi: Now. Out.

The stink bug flew up to the skylight.

Pi: Well, if that’s the way you want to do it.

She grabbed a page of newspaper.

Me: Not the comics
Pi: It’s newspaper
Me: It’s the COMICS!
Pi: It’s to get the stink bug! Yah!
Me: Don’t get stink bug on the comics!
Puppy: What are you people doing?
Pi: The sink bug is not cooperating!
Puppy: I think I’ll go outside
Me: I think you’ll stay right here
Puppy: Sigh
Pi: Out! Out! Out!
Puppy: Yes! Yes! Yes!
Pi: The stink bug is hiding in the door track! Get out of there you!

(Should I mention that we were laughing uncontrollably at this point?)

Me: Pi, close the door
Pi: I have to get the stink bug out!
Me: Yes, but you’re letting all his relatives in
Puppy: I am a good boy
Me: You’re a good boy because I’m holding your collar
Puppy: Sigh
Pi: Scoot little stink bug, scoot!
Me: I think you just broke some of his legs
Pi: How do you make bug casts?
Me: No casts
Pi: I still can’t get him out!
Me: Get the paper under him and flip him out
Pi: Paper under. Flip! And…. He’s out!
Puppy: Bye bug
Pi: And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get rid of a stink bug
Me: Can I read the comics now?

Love, Mom

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