Every fall, the weather gets colder and the insect life in the forest begins its quest to find a warm spot inside to winter over. Apparently that migration to the Great Indoors began this week, since I had quite a few bug freak outs. Maybe it’s a "girly" thing but having some large beetle crash land on your head is startling (not to mention disgusting). A stink bug (a.k.a. Western Conifer Seed Bug) in your hair is not a pleasant feeling.
Maybe I’m squeamish, but I don’t want insects on my person. Or in my food. The other night I was making dinner and a fly was committing suicide in one of our kitchen lights. Murphy’s Law says that when the bug meets his final reward, you will find a little insect surprise in your dinner. (I prefer to nuke said bug before that happens.)
One morning this week, I got out of the shower and found, much to my dismay, that a stink bug fell either off the ceiling or out of my towel. (Oh the horror!) James knew a stink bug must be nearby without seeing this incident because he heard the resultant squeal when I discovered the bug crawling near my foot.
People wonder why I don’t wander around barefoot. I wear slippers because when it comes to the bug invasion, I squish first and ask questions later. And I draw the line at squishing bugs in bare feet. That’s just too gross.