The 2011 Attack of Big Bertha

If you know me at all, you know that I'm a bugophobe.  Just one big bug is enough to give me a case of heebie jeebies so bad, it's practically paralyzing.  (And if they bring a few friends, it might as well be the Apocalypse.)    I'm not proud of this.  I'm not proud of the fact that a big ol' bug is enough to send me screaming in the other direction.  (no exaggeration.  Remember the big bug in my room above the bed in Moore Hall, Shannon??)

Anyway...back to not being proud of this fact.  Nothing terrifies me as much as a gigantic bug.  (Gigantic--bigger than a quarter)  It doesn't matter if it's harmless.  A bug, is a bug is a bug.  So imagine my dismay when I was home with the boys this morning and I headed into the bathroom, and there was a big centipede lookin' thing chillin' in my bathroom sink.  He (or she, doesn't matter) was bigger than the drain opening.  Once I glimpsed Big Bertha (yeah, I'm making it a she) I couldn't even WALK into the bathroom.  If Big Bertha had graced me with her presence whilst in the shower, I would have jumped out screaming, mid-shampoo.  I texted Hubby about the bug, and sent him a photo.  (I'm pretty sure this is one of the things that he just adores about me!)  He writes back to send Will in there with a magazine to kill it, and to flush it down the toilet.  Yeah Right.

I approach Will, and I explain to him about Mommy's ridiculous fear about bugs and ask him how he feels about killing Big Bertha.  He gives me a wary eye and says "Ok, I'll help."  This is the low I've sunk to....enlisting my five-year old to help dispose of a bug that I can't even go into the bathroom to see fully.  He suggests a big cup of very hot water.  I think....well, I could do that.  So we fill a coffee can with hot water, and I bring it into the bathroom.  When it comes time, though, I can't  bring myself to do it.  What if I just piss off this thing and it comes out to give me a piece of her mind?  Then I remember......cleaning supplies!  Ooh Clorox Clean-up.  I go in there, trigger poised.  Aaah!  I spray and run, slamming the door behind me.  Will, "Is it dead, Mom?  Are you ok?"  Ten minutes go by.....and I check.  Bertha's busted.  Only now I can't bring myself to dispose of her.

So I've closed the door and left it for Brian to deal with.  Yes, I'm well aware that I'm a total wimp and you may judge if you must.  Will though, surprised me with a hug and an "I love you, Mom."  I'm a wimp, but a wimp with my family's love and support.  :)