Why I Hate Bugs

"Pardon me, but have you seen Audrey Broome? I hear she
has really nice hair..."

I would love to be able to tell you that there is nothing that frightens me, and that I am, at all times, a stoic model of bravery. However, that would be a lie. First, it is a constant concern for me that Frito Lay will discontinue baked Cheetos, or that Drop Dead Diva will go off the air. But, perhaps one of my biggest fears is of bugs—creepy crawlers, insects—whatever you call them, I do not like them. In fact, if you put one near me, I will scream like a grown man screaming like a little girl, and I will run away and ask someone else to remove the bug from my line of sight. However, I do not kill bugs, nor do I condone the killing of bugs, because they are living creatures, and, if I consider killing a bug, say, a cockroach, I will think of how he probably has a whole cockroach family who will mourn him if he doesn't return home. Plus, stepping on a cockroach makes a horrible noise, and then you have to clean off the bottom of your shoe, and you might actually have to touch the bug to do so. So, whichever lucky individual I cajole into removing the bug for me has to have a proper bug evacuation and safety plan in mind, which typically involves picking up the bug in a paper towel or a bunch of folded toilet paper, running like a maniac to the door or window, and then shaking said paper out to make sure the bug gets released. 

I have many reasons for being mortally terrified of bugs, partly because of experiences I have had with them, and partly because they just have too many legs and some of them  look a little bit like the baby that would be made if you crossed the DNA of the Predator and Edward G. Robinson. There are actually a couple of kinds of bugs that really don't bother me, though: ladybugs and lightning bugs. Ladybugs just seem very docile, and not like they are about to attack me and murder my entire family, as so many other bugs do. Plus, they have nice colors, and you can't really see their legs, which helps. Lightning bugs—well, when I was a kid we would catch them during the summer and then release them, so I have some familiarity with them and they aren't quite as terrifying as they could be. 

My first horrible memory of a bug involves a particularly unsavory-looking cockroach that launched an aerial attack on me when I was a kid. I had opened the side door of my parents' house to let our dog out, and, you know how bugs seem to be attracted to lights at night? Well, the cockroach in question was hiding behind the outside light, and when I opened the door, it flew down from the light, landing on my head. I started screaming, terrified by not only the satanic creature that was now making a home in my hair, but also because the thought that cockroaches could fly was horrifying beyond belief. I shook my head and grabbed at my hair until the offending creature dropped to the ground. For the remainder of the evening I could feel phantom legs in my hair, and I am sure that my dreams that night reflected scenes from Kafka's The Metamorphosis. 

Later, as an adult, another cockroach, (perhaps even the very same one--how long do cockroaches live?) launched a sneak attack on me as I slept. It was 2005, and I was sharing a bed with my now ex-husband when the incident occurred, which is horrifying enough in and of itself. As I slept, the deviant insect shimmied its way up the wall behind my head, onto my pillow, and into my hair! I should really find out if I am using a shampoo that contains cockroach pheromones or something, because the things sure seem to love my hair! Well, the quiet padding of 160,000 disgusting legs on top of my head jarred me out of a restful sleep, and I woke up screaming and shaking my whole body to launch the creature out of my vicinity. I'm not sure where it went, but I knew it was no longer in the bed with me, though, for the remainder of the night I shook with a fear typically only known to the victims of Leatherface in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or to women who are about to go on blind dates. 

I may look all happy and playful, but watch
out! I will devour you like Kobayashi devours
hot dogs on the Fourth of July!

A few years later, I had a run-in with a praying mantis that shook me to my very core. I was out in my front yard, trimming the ugly privet hedge that sits in front of my house in an effort to make it less ugly. While my actions proved futile, the trimming did uncover an insect the size of Montana lounging in the leaves. The praying mantis stood, a silent sentinel announcing the arrival of abject terror. The way she turned her head creepily to the side to look at me, clearly trying to decide if my broken corpse would taste better with barbecue sauce or A-1, caused me to run into the house and cower behind the curtains. I watched the mantis from the window, and called my mom for assistance. My mom arrived after a little while, came into my house, grabbed a paper towel, and swiftly picked the insect up, placing it in a bush across the yard. I was amazed at her bravery in the face of such a vicious opponent, as I would have needed to don a biohazard suit and catch the thing in an airtight steel container were I to try to remove it myself. 

My most recent encounter with an insect occurred in the summer of 2012. I had just completed a rousing session of yoga, following along with an app on my iPhone. At the end of the routine I was resting on my back, as instructed, when I felt one of my cats brushing against my foot. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the cute gray-striped face of my female cat Janice, but was instead greeted by the very countenance of evil itself! A cockroach that had clearly been dosed with human growth hormone peered up at me from its comfortable perch on my big toe. Once the fear-induced apoplexy ended, and the cockroach had been shaken to kingdom come, I went out and bought huge Combat roach traps that probably killed every roach in the greater Atlanta area. I haven't even spotted a roach for over a year, except for a few dead ones. 

So, if you, like me, have an irrational terror of anything with more than four legs, I first recommend that you buy industrial strength Combat roach traps. Those suckers are the size of Shaquille O'Neal's foot, and will really give you peace of mind! I also suggest that you develop a network of removal and rescue specialists whom you can entice to come perform bug removal for you should you ever need it. Offer them cookies—that always seems to be a good motivator. And if both of these strategies fail for you, then just turn away, and run off screaming into the distance!

Cockroach image courtesy of http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2010/09/cockroach-brains/

Praying mantis image courtesy of http://www.hydroponics-simplified.com/identifying-garden-pests.html