I hate bugs! I hate spiders! I hate flies! I hate anything that is creepy-crawly! Actually, it's the crawly that really bothers me. Being handicapped, I am unable to reach and flick bugs off of me. I can't raise my hand above my chest, so when flies land on me I can't shoo them away. I truly believe that the flies know this, and they conspire together to bully me. I am so obsessed about bugs crawling on me that I have a tendency to panic at the wrong times. A loose string can be touching my leg and I will get manic that it might be a bug. The bug man comes to our house once-a-month, just to ease my mind, and I insist he spray heavily by the outside door that opens to my space.
Our home is impeccable, as much as I am obsessed with not having bugs around, Janet is obsessed about having a clean home which is not a bad thing in my eyes. Many people have said that our home looks like a model home. So very seldom does a bug have the opportunity to get close to me, but every once in a while one sneaks past the bastioned barrier, and gets into my bed. It is usually one of those little, black, hard-shelled, water bugs. Everyone needs to know those little bastards bite, and when they do it stings. The first time I was assaulted by one I was sure it was a scorpion. When Janet came in to rescue me she had to turn her head to keep from laughing when she spotted that itty, bitty bug.
It happened again last night. One of those little buggers got by the guard. I was in one of those "dead to the world" deep sleeps and I felt a sting on the bottom of my right foot. Of course, it is down by my foot where I can't reach. I am convinced the flies have told the beetles about my inability to reach and that is why they go for my feet. Now I have to decide if the sting is from a beetle or a scorpion. When I feel another sting between my toes I figure it is a beetle, but I am still panicked. Is this a call-for-help-in-the-middle-of-the-night-emergency or is this a cowboy-up-stop-your-whining-get-over-it-it's-just-a-little bug annoyance that will go away? After about the seventh bite from one of those little buggers, it's sting seems to lose its oomph. After twenty minutes of panic the little demon disembarked from my foot.
Now, I was fully awake so I decided to watch a movie. About an hour into the movie, it happened, again, but on my left foot. No sting, same oomphless bug! I tried to crush it between my toes but like Ironman (the movie I happened to be watching) the armor-clad bugger was impenetrable:
I'm being eaten by a little black bug!
Oh! No! He's biting my toe!
Oh! Gee! He's up to my knee!
Oh! My! He's under my thigh!
Oh! Ootchie! He's up to my . . . . . . . . .
Are you going buggy?
The Flip Side
Wouldn't it be cool, if was a lizard instead of a bug?