Texas bugs, and Heather's personal triumph

If you're looking for more proof that God has a sense of humor and/or proof that he hates you, here it is:

Cockroaches in Texas can fly.

My guides during my week of Texas travel informed me of that horrifying fact when I mentioned my seeing a gigantic cicada shell outside our van in Falfurrias. This is also proof that the farther south you go, the larger and more terrifying the bugs get.

While walking around a church in Falfurrias, I heard cicadas. They sounded much meaner than the ones up north. Then I saw the shell. It was gi-normous. I had been thinking that our Brood X 17-year cicadas up north were the biggest. But the cicada shell in Texas dwarfed the shells we have up here in Maryland.

When I pointed out the jumbo shell to my guides, they said, "Oh yeah, it's true, everything's bigger in Texas -- especially the bugs."

My eyes got wide.

"You should see the cockroaches -- they even fly down here."

At that point I ran screaming from the car.

Okay, maybe not. But it grossed me out even without having seen one. I told them if I did end up seeing one, much screaming and flailing would ensue.

"Oh, it'd just fly after you," they all laughed.

I woke up an hour later. Apparently I had fainted right there next to the car in the parking lot of the First United Methodist Church in Falfurrias, Texas. *wink*

I've seen big cockroaches before. I remember laughing and being grossed out at the same time on a trip to Venezuela when one of our Venezuelan friends ran after a huge cockroach to kill it. It was the biggest roach I'd ever seen.

Anyway, I made it through the Texas trip without seeing any members of the flying roach circus, thankfully.

One of my tour guides for the week also told me more about the tarantulas he'd had around his yard in San Antonio. Ugh. If there's something I hate more than roaches, it's large spiders. Actually, it's spiders in general, but the bigger, the more horrible. He said they only killed the ones that got close to the house. I can't imagine killing something that large. I mean, you can't just whack a tarantula with a newspaper and be done with it. Hell, it'd probably take the newspaper away and start chasing you with it.

I am a total bug pansy. A wimp. A wuss.

But last night, there was a moment of triumph in my own apartment. Recently in our apartment we'd been getting a few of those bugs that have too many legs. You know what I'm talking about. The bugs that have more legs than any creature could possibly need. And they move very fast.

Well last night, we were coming back into the apartment when I saw something on the floor. I thought, I don't remember that piece of dirt being there. Then the dirt started running. It was one of those leggy bugs, a HUGE one. And it was making a run for it.

I yelled at my bug terminating wife. "AH! Get it, it's one of those huge leggy bugs!" But she didn't see it. If I wanted to destroy this thing before it hid behind our entertainment center, I would have to take bug termination into my own hands. There was no Raid around either.

Fortunately, I had my shoes on. So I ran screaming at the thing and jumped on it. Repeatedly. All while screaming about how horrible and creepy it made me feel.

"*THUMP!* Agh, this is creepy *THUMP!* Ewwwww, I can't believe I'm *THUMP!* killing this thing myself *THUMP!* This is so gross *THUMP! DIE DIE *THUMP!* DIE YOU LEGGY BASTARD!! *THUMP!*"

And so on and so forth.

After turning it into a pulverized speck, I made my wife take care of the remains. Then I sat in the corner and rocked for a while, trying to shed that icky feeling.

I consider it a victory.