A few minutes ago, my (almost 15 year old, taller and stronger than me) son comes downstairs to tell me there is a HUGE-ASS bug in his room, and can I please take it out? He hates bugs. It's one of the few things that will tear him away from a video game trance.
It's HUGE, he tells me, it's a cicada. I'm not even sure there are cicadas around this year, but he's swearing up and down that it's a cicada because "It's clicking so loud I could hear it through my (video game) headset." You know, there comes a time in every kid's life when you turn over the bug-getting directly to your child. Mostly because you are just DONE with bug killing. To complicate matters, this bug is in the "too big to squish" category. According to my definition, bugs are too big to squish when I can actually hear them crunching if I step on them. It's not really fair for the little bugs, but the big bugs get a break here because the crunch noise they would make would give me an automatic picture what's going on under the tissue or my shoe, and I just can't deal with that. Anyway, I try to explain to my son that he can put a cup over it, then sliiiiide a paper under the cup, and walk the bug outside to freedom.
NO WAY, he tells me. It might attack me if I do that. YOU have to do it. By the way, this is the same boy who tells me he wants to join the marines.
So I grab a plastic cup and a perfume ad from the kohl's flyer, and I head up to his room.
Ok, so it was pretty large. Definitely not the largest bug I've ever seen around here - that distinction probably goes to the nasty beetles that fly into the window screens on summer nights and sound like bees on steroids. I've had them fly into my head once or twice before and they FREAK me out every time. No, this guy was definitely prettier. A nice green color body, about 3 inches long and flattish. Reminiscent of a praying mantis, but with a much bulkier body. He was perched high up on the wall next to my dear child's unmade bed. Excellent. So if I accidentally killed it, bug guts would fall into the sheets and blankets and the complaining would just change to a different topic.
I stepped up on the bed with my cup, eyed my prey and aimed for complete coverage. But I didn't realize he was looking back at me. He took off toward my head, buzzing like an electric fan, and I tried to simultaneously keep my shit together, wave him off, and not drop my cup. Success, except for the fact that now he landed on the ceiling.
My second try achieved full bug-coverage. I slid the perfume ad between the ceiling and the cup and removed the cup from the ceiling. He was very quiet in there (unlike those NASTY big beetles - you have to keep shaking the cup to keep those guys off-kilter or they'll climb right up the cup and ATTACK you when you remove the paper on top. HATE those things…) which was a relief.
I walked this pleasant enough green guy outside, stopping to get my phone on the way. I 'd take a picture of him and post it on Facebook - HA! I thought, that's what he gets for asking me to take care of a bug for him when he's almost 15!
I put the cup on the porch railing, got the phone ready and aimed it at the top of the cup. I took the perfume ad off the top and peered into the cup to see the subject of my photo. Was he still in there? I snapped a picture and then he flew out, right at my head.
|Here's the picture I took. He was already climbing up the side of the cup, getting ready to spring...|
I'm sure the neighbors heard my screech…
The bug-getter in the house never gets any sympathy.