Period: Single, living with Z's sister
Please note before thinking I'm crazy: different regions of the county have VERY different little critters!!
Second note: I am quite afraid of little critters.
Third note: If you happen to be pro-insect-rights, you might not want to read this.
Christi and I had 2 different roommates while we lived in our 3-bedroom duplex in the city. We found them both via rigorous craigslist screenings. When the first one moved to California to be with her online boyfriend (whom she met on craigslist as well), it was just the two of us for a month and 1/2. [Note, I'm all for normally meeting people online- heck, I blog! But to date someone who posted a craigslist personal.. eek!!] Anyway, moving on, we're both pretty independent so we often spent time in different parts of the house.
One night I had made a good dinner and was cleaning up after by myself...or so I thought. Once I got the dishes done, I decided to be the good roommate and do some more cleaning. I wiped down all the countertops, tables, and chairs, and proceeded to start sweeping. You know that little area under the edge of the kitchen cabinets & dishwasher that always seems to hide some nasty little crumbs?? Well, I was bound determined to rid the area of "ick" completely. I got down on my hands and knees with our little hand broom and dustpan and started sweeping all the nastiness that roommates and our guests had left behind.
As I neared the dishwasher, I knew that would be the hardest part because it wasn't perfectly even with the edge of the cabinets. I went at it pretty good and paused for a moment to push my sleeves back up. When I looked back down at the floor I saw the most huge, disgusting pest with a million legs that I'd ever seen! Of course, I immediately let out a blood-curdling scream that the little old lady next door probably heard! But then, it was into action mode! No nasty little critter invades my home and gets away with it! I grabbed the dustpan and proceeded to beat him as if he'd stolen my favorite handbag! Little did I know, the beating was so intense it sounded more like someone was trying to break in our back door (which wouldn't have been unusual in this city) and that caused Christi to run down the stairs to come to my rescue.
Of course, by then Mr. Nasty was dead and not quite in his original form. Thus, I couldn't accurately show her the huge invader that DID break into our house. Oh, how I wish he'd been bigger. That would've prooved to my future sister in law just how brave I'd been to take him on by myself. But no, apparently centipedes, as they're called, are common in the midwest. Ugh. They're not the little tiny bugs shown in your Jr. High science book by the way.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is Mr. Nasty's grandchild(much smaller than Mr. Nasty himself):
I do apologize for the picture, but the story is just no good without seeing the star.
It makes me nauseous too, don't worry.
It makes me nauseous too, don't worry.