The ground was littered with plastic flowers and two-liter bottles I knew better than to step on. My shower bag was heavy, and whatever I was carrying in it was wiggling and making it hard to navigate the debris and broken pavement. I really, really needed to get to the cave on the other side of the grocery store, and I was making great progress until the flying dragon slammed into my head and the wiggly thing escaped from my shower bag and all hope was lost. …
(Side note – this is the second dream I’ve had in the past few weeks that involved something scary and wiggly entangled in laundry items. I feel like I’m being told by the universe to stop doing laundry. I’m going with that.)
We’ve been invaded by stink bugs. Some people call them potato bugs. I call them flying feces from hell, but whatever you call them, they’re awful. They love nothing better than the fact that we leave for extended periods of time, and allow them undisturbed curtains to congregate in. It’s amazing the wildlife that will take over your home when you’re away, and I’m not talking about children. I had to fight a possum for my lawn chair the other day. He was all like, “Hey lady, what’s up with taking my chair?” And I was like, “Get off my lawn, you marsupial! And quit stealing my lighters!” Because everyone knows the only thing a possum uses their belly bag for is to hide stolen lighters. (These could possibly be alternative facts, but the stink bug thing is absolutely true.)
About halfway through my vacuum-cleaner tantrum, George Googles how to get rid of stink bugs.
“Babe, it says not to suck them into the vacuum.”
“Of course it does, it’s the lying internet.”
“No really. They produce a scent others can smell that attracts more when they’re in distress.”
“So what you’re saying is, they’re peeing in my vacuum cleaner. I think that might be grounds for flame thrower usage.”
“It says to smash a bunch of them and put the paste outside the house.”
“Stink bugs understand the premise of heads on pikes surrounding the city? Holy crap.”
“No babe, it’s the scent thing. They’ll stay outside instead of coming inside.”
“Can we build tiny fences and catch a bunch of them we herd around like tiny sheep?”
“Have you been licking the sinks at TA? Why don’t you go take a nap…”
And it seemed like a good idea at the time, until I got attacked by the flying dragon. Sometimes, home time is hard.
