Bugs

I am grateful that our laundry room is not equipped with a surveillance camera. It might have recorded an ugly sight last night.

It was late when I was getting ready for bed. From the sound of snoring I knew my beloved was already sleeping. I had taken off all my clothes but when I reached for my jammies I realized that they were not on their usual hook. Oh yes, I had washed them and they were still in the laundry room waiting to be folded and put away. The house was dark as I ran to retrieve them wearing nothing but my birthday suit. When I flicked on the light to grab my jammies I was greeted by a herd of enormous crickets. I hate bugs. I especially hate bugs that might jump on me when we are sharing a small confined space. I hate them even more when I am naked and feeling very vulnerable. My scream did not awaken my beloved so I was left to deal with the monsters on my own. This morning the laundry room floor is littered with several books which were used as weapons to still the jumping, woman-eating bugs. Under each book is a dead bug. I got my jammies and left hurriedly after the great battle. Today I have not yet worked up enough nerve to clean up the field of battle.