Killed a bug tonight. Killed it real good.
Normally I wouldn't boast about killing a bug. It is one of my assigned family responsibilities. We had a slew of bugs at our previous house so, whenever Kelly spotted one, I knew I needed to transition to Terminator mode.
We haven't had too many bugs here but about three weeks ago a cricket started to chirp in the basement. At first, I think we thought it was cute: a little bit of a country feel in the big city. We were out of town last week, so we were sorta hoping that he'd die or get laryngitis or something (I said "he" because only male crickets can chirp). But when we returned home, that bugger was still chirping for love in all the wrong places. And the tiled floor downstairs made it all the louder. It wasn't so cute anymore.
He was well hidden, maneuvering between our laundry room and under the refrigerator. I've spent a couple of minutes the past few nights searching him out to no avail. But after watching 24 tonight and seeing how nice guy Rick[y] Schroeder went into hardcore interrogation mode, I knew I had to catch the cricket.
Usually getting close to the cricket causes him to shut-up, but tonight he kept at it. I discovered that he was hiding underneath the drywall between the laundry room and kitchen. Clever boy, but not clever enough. I won't go any further into the details, suffice to say, the bug is no more. Victory is mine.
He was a worthy adversary.