A few weeks back, a woman we hardly know brought us a box of clothes her children had outgrown. A box of ugly clothes and roaches, the gift that keeps on giving. I’m sure she had no idea the bugs were there, or she wouldn’t have given me the box. I’m pretty sure she knew the clothes were ugly, but figured I wouldn’t care. What is it about having a lot of children that I begin to look like an alternative to Good Will? Cute clothes any day, but bug infested ugly ones need to go somewhere else.
The exterminator came Wednesday, God bless the bug man. He sprayed everywhere and we saw nothing…at first. Yesterday morning, there were a few dead bugs and we swept them up and thought there weren’t as many as we thought. This morning proved us wrong. The little suckers just took a long time to kill. My children have seen quite a few dead ants, roaches and spiders at this point, why do they feel the need to stand over each one and shriek like a girl in a horror movie? Just about the time my heart rate returns to normal, the screaming starts again and I think Freddy Kruger must be in the house. Nope, it’s just a dead bug.
All this got me thinking about PETA people. What do they do when they get a box of ugly clothes and roaches? Do they let the little dears move into the spare room? Do they lecture each other about the value of each animal’s life no matter how disgusting it is? Do they welcome them and feed them? I suspect they wait until night and then call the bug man under cover of darkness so that their animal worshiping friends don’t know. I’ll bet they swear him to secrecy and bribe him to say not a word. Then, I’ll bet he takes the money from their bribe and drives to McDonald’s and treats himself to a burger. Just imagine, PETA money buying a burger for a bug murderer. I love a happy ending.