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It’s alright, you can calm down now!

April 30, 2011

When the BF wakes up, I FULLY expect glowing adoration for the act of supreme heroism that I, a normally unassuming and completely wussy Crappy Gardener, accomplished this very morning, between the hours of thirty minutes ago, and right about now.

I, by myself, have killed a bug.

That’s right. I even did it without screaming. I didn’t wake up the BF, and if that’s not proof of my love for him, I don’t know what is.

Know this: I once woke him up at three am because I heard rustling in the ceiling. He heard nothing (of course, isn’t that always how it happens?) and he went to bed. I heard it again. So of course I woke him up again. And made him install a metal plate over the exposed hole in the ceiling that was waiting for a light fixture.

And made him crawl around in the attic to find it.

No, he didn’t find anything. No, I wasn’t hallucinating.

But this morning! OH! THIS MORNING! I did not do either of those things! No. I squealed in disgusted, revolted fright and ran to fetch the bug spray. And did that girly “OMIGODEWWWW” dance. You know the one, ladies.

What? You didn’t think I’d just smash it, did you? Silly.

No! I sprayed the crap out of it and then I stuck a cup over it and blocked off the entire room so the cats wouldn’t get bug spray on them.

That area is off-limits until the brave, handsome, Knight In Shining Armor (BF) comes to rescue me from That Thing Under The Cup.

Thank the Lord that this horrifying incident had not happened while he was away on business this past week. OH MY GOD would that have been a disaster. Or at least much, much louder.

Oh hey: it was a palmetto bug if you aren’t familiar with Florida, hereafter to be known as Hell’s Buggiest Swampland.

Oh hey again: a palmetto bug is a kind of…..roach (I almost couldn’t even type it).

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