Last night, after I went to bed, a cricket viciously intruded on my private space—and set up shop in our bathroom, mere steps from my side of the bed. There, the wretched little beast sang out into the darkness …for hours.
Now, Johnny—his hearing aids resting in their charging station—slept blissfully…totally oblivious to the insect crisis a few steps away. I on the other hand, soon lost any hope of bliss. Not only was the selfish little vocalist in the wall behind my toilet getting louder, Johnny’s hearing aids inexplicably woke up and provided an electronic rhythm section with their incessant chirp, chirp, chirps.
Having come to the end of my last nerve, I got up, fetched my electronic instrument of insect annihilation and went in murderous pursuit of the little bugger, who continued to fearlessly serenade me from his hidden bunker. I turned on the lights and waited, my swatter blinking in anticipation of the violence to come. However, the cricket’s warbling continued unabated and his exact position remained elusive. I even checked the towel cabinet and under my scale. Sigh.
I went back to bed, cussing his blessed little insect heart.
This mornin…I awoke to his singing. And everytime I went to the bathroom, he chirp, chirp, chirped at me. I had a hard time brushing my teeth adequately since my jaws were clenched. And it became more stressful with every periodic visit…until…
Just now, as I stood in the echo chamber…er bathroom…scrubbing my hands until my watch informed me that I’d done a good enough job, the bloody bug was STILL performing an aria…voce forte. 😳
THEN suddenly, a medium-sized spider dropped down into the tub from some unknown somewhere. As soon as the arachnid hit bottom, the cricket…wherever he was…stopped his incessant vocalizing. There was a moment of silence as all three of us evaluated the change in energy.
Personally, I was facing a moral decision of gigantic proportions. Do I turn on the faucet and wash the spider out? Or do I let the hunter track down his suddently silent prey…or do I…?
And then, it happened….
The blessed cricket jes couldn’t contain himself. Chirp? It was sotto voce this time though.
The spider whirled at the sound and waited…
Then, sure enough…there was another alluring …questioning but faint…chirp? The spider zeroed in on the cricket’s hiding place…
And I? I slowly backed out and closed the door.
So now…while I’m waiting for the assassination to be over, I’m pondering how many stories just come to some to us in the middle of the night…while others sleep.
When it’s all over in there… like the murderess that I am, I’ll go whack the spider even though she did her job well.