silverfish

Eeewwww! This is the feeling that silverfish evoke in me. They are worse than ants, roaches and even dare I say it mice. They are quick little... well an expletive comes to mind....

Let me set the stage. Now I have hated these bleepin things for a long time. They are in my basement and we encounter each other occasionally when I am cleaning or whatever. That's bad enough. But I can almost deal with them if they keep their distance in the basement. I still get that fight or flight feeling when I see them. OK maybe just the flight part of the feeling. Sometimes I get up the nerve to chase one down and stomp it with a shoe or something. But last night one of those little, (add expletive here) DARED to come into my LIVING ROOM. MY LIVING ROOM.

I was ALL ALONE. Jay had gone to bed. What good are husbands in these circumstances if they are in bed!!!!!!?

This little (expletive) came out from hell, I mean the couch---- I hasten to add the very same couch I was sitting on. It was dark in the room but I actually heard it shuffle along the floor. I mean this (expletive) had WEIGHT to it. Suddenly overcome with the desire to rid myself of it I jumped up, with the TV remote in hand as my weapon of choice. By now it knew that I was on to it and it ran. I tried to get it but it ran under the other couch. I think I heard it snicker at me as it ran to safety.

I sat down uneasily on the other couch, remote in hand, and waited..... The little ( expletive ) never reared its ugly head again. I sprayed a bug spray behind the couch. Quietly, I heard the silverfish say, "That didn't hurt."