Thursday, August 31, 2006

The Spider Cricket

They are a strange blend of genetically enhanced cricket with a steroid crazed spider. That's the only way to describe them other than they look like an alien life form. Perhaps they are. Because until we moved into our house, neither hubby nor I had ever seen such a frightening creature. The most horrific part is actually that it is a SPIDER that HOPS LIKE A CRICKET.

A few weeks ago we had hubby's unsuspecting sister and husband for a night. We made up our basement guest bedroom quite nicely - clean sheets and towels and all. Everything was at peace - good chinese food for dinner - a few glasses of wine. And then we all went to bed. Sister, husband, and their dog (we'll call him the Exterminator) tramped down the stairs and then we heard: "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Followed by gasps and inquisitive murmurs. I didn't even have to look. I said, "That is an alien form we like to call the spider cricket. Beware. It hops, and it is neither spider nor cricket." And then Exterminator took an interest in the creature by way of lunging at it and chomping it down. His parents were quite beside themselves, and I was quite the happy hostess as I did not have to worry about spider cricket hunting (they are fast suckers) so I could sleep that night (and be sure I would not wake up with said spider cricket on my face and such).

Anyway apparently since Exterminator is no longer at our house, and our dog, upon seeing a spider cricket, leaps away from it, ears plastered back on his head, like the thing is going to eat him alive - which they may - at this point we do not know their limitations - have basically taken over the basement. They like it down there. They have their little parties. They don't bother us and we don't bother them. Unless of course they emerge to the first floor - where all bets are off and it's a full out fight to the death. The only problem is when I have to retrieve something out of the laundry room - which is in prime spider cricket territory. It's like their little game. Upon seeing me, they like to bajoing out of their hiding places at me. So, I've taken to doing VERY LITTLE laundry. I'm a hostage in my own home. I think this is grounds for moving, don't you?


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