First, the vinegaroon. Now a centipede.
This time… In our bed.
You want to sit around. Watch a movie with your family. Maybe eat some popcorn. But, a centipede is intruding via hair follicles.
*____________________ insert screams of horror here*
The centipede was literally hanging onto a mane of hair. How it even got there. No one knows. (Quite possibly from our brief need of oxygen escape from dad’s barking tarantula?) Nevertheless, it creepily crawled off and roamed on over to my hunny bunny’s hand and began nibbling. He jumps up. Followed by the rest of us hopping up. Screaming. In horror.
“Something bit me!”
What? No way!
It’s a centipede. Oh God.
Stunned, with everyone posted up on the back of couches, benches and ottomans, there’s a panic. Where’d it go? (more horrified screaming)
Aren’t they poisonous? No.
Is it going to kill you? Not likely.
Either way, I’m not sleeping in this bed until the centipede defense team comes and kills that bastard.
Shake out all the pillows. Check.
Sheets and blankets. Check.
Under the bed?
At least, nothing at first glance anyway…
After trolling around with a flashlight in tow, there’s no sight of this little f***er and we’re all starting to worry even more because, there’ll definitely be no sleeping with that creepy crawly moseying around all willy nilly.
Check toward the headboard.
It scuttled across the floor… into my slipper.
No dice. Upon being whacked with a can of Hot Shot bug spray – that was clearly not being used properly and additionally using the lid of the ToGo cup to try to guide it… uh… anywhere – it was flung back under the bed.
I drop to my stomach by the foot of the bed, with the flashlight and am scoping hard for this vermin. And there he was. Climbing alongside the inside of the bed frame. Gosh, that thing moved so grossly.
Find a stick. Fling him off again.
We could lose it forever. Let’s think more clearly.
We grabbed a straw from a to-go cup. Good choice!
Well, we didn’t have a stick anyway. So it’s kicked off with the straw and crawling around for dear life. He crawls back toward the darker corners of the bed, near the headboard. Lost him again.
- 1. 2. 3….. group effort. We pull the bed away from the wall.
Where the hell is it?
Sneaky little nuisance….
BAM. Got eyes on it.
Pull the bunk further. Check.
Now, we got it. Hot Shot spray can device, stat.
Oh dear God, it’s still moving. With high intensity intention.
Time to use the Hot Shot can’s alternative use, and I bet you didn’t realize until today…
Is now a baton in which we came down on that bugger with the rim of the can’s bottom.
Oh my goodness. It’s still moving. And now there’s two separated parts of it moving. In opposite directions. Do these things multiply and clone? Freaking out!
Seriously. Why won’t this thing die.
We then proceed to use the bug spray for it’s intended use and drizzle the poison at the centipede. Well, both moving centipedes now, until it – I mean, they – seem to slow its pace. We grab our handy dandy insect transporter – the aforementioned ToGo Cup – and scoop that thing into it. Finally.
For whatever reason, and I’m not a centipede/bug expert, this thing keeps moving inside our insect transporter for another hour or so.
One of the kids says, “hey, let’s feed it to the Vinegaroon! These are the kind of bugs they eat.”
Um, well, the centipede is now soaked in a deadly chemical. I like where you’re going with this… but, let’s scratch that thought.
Maybe not the best idea to feed the arachnid scorpion eater with a toxic centipede.
Moral of the story? Theres a moral? Not likely. Anyway, the bugs here are out of control but there no match for my band of super heroes….
The Centipede Defense Team. *cue introductory super heros music
Oooo! And I think we should make some shirts… or, Oh! Oh! Matching uniforms out of lycra and spandex! You know…
Like The Incredibles!