Monday, May 27, 2013

I Don’t Like Bugs

I don’t like bugs. That sounds pretty innocuous, but I really don’t like bugs. I spend a ridiculous amount of time thinking about them. The house we currently rent has silverfish. They make my skin crawl. We’ve had the place treated, but they’re still here. I find a couple every day. Five or six when it’s hot out. The problem with me is that if I see one, I spend the next hour looking for them, regardless of what else I’m doing. They’re usually dead (yay!) but sometimes they’re not (boo!). If you’ve ever killed a silverfish, you know they have a coating of silvery-brown dust. Don’t know why, don’t care.

I mention it because when I find them on a wall up high, I have to get them somehow. They system I devised involves a four-foot ruler and a lint roller. I take a sheet from the lint roller, reverse stick it to the end of the ruler, and then use the ruler to pick up the silverfish like pet hair. It works for spiders too.

The freaky thing is that sometimes, because of the silvery-brown dust, the silverfish won’t stick. Which, in and of itself, is not so freaky, but now the lint roller tape has a perfect little Shroud-of-Turin image of a silverfish. It’s unnerving. And I still have to find and kill the little fucker, who is now somewhere else because I knocked him down.