I know that sounds like a horrible thing to say, but really, I am not a huge fan of the Great Outdoors. Sure, there are times when it's pretty. I like to look at clouds and trees just as much as the next person. I enjoy a good dip in the ocean, and I like to look at pretty flowers. I even grow a tiny herb garden (in a big pot). I think what I really hate is the bugs.
Oh, do I hate bugs. They're small and dirty and crawly and freakishly speedy when you try to kill them, and some of them are dangerous. And they have *way* too many legs. Seriously, they gross me out. I get a twisted pleasure from smashing them, knowing that that particular bug will never assault my carpet again.
Carpet, did you say?
I should clarify. Bugs are perfectly fine in their own home, the Great Outdoors. They belong there. That's their territory. I respect that. If I don't like them, I can just stay out of their territory. Problem solved.
However, here in our new abode, the bugs are invading *my* territory. This house, this is mine. Bugs not wanted or welcome. I have tried explaining this to them, but they persist in coming here anyway, which means I have to break out the Dreaded Flip-Flop Of Doom.
Things I have killed in my house so far today (as of 10:00 CDT):
1 rather largish grasshopper
It's actually the silverfish that freak me out the most. They're so... fast. And the legs are creepy. I don't know, but something about them makes me leap up on chairs, shrieking like a 50s housewife. Ugh. ::shivers uncontrollably::
Any ideas on how rid my house of crazy insects without poison? I caught the Bear snacking on a roly-poly yesterday. Blech.