Freak of Nature

It’s summertime and the living is easy… well at least it’s supposed to be.

For most people, summer conjures up images of vacation, relaxation and loads of fun. For me, it’s about scorching heat, bored children and unwanted visitors, those visitors being the itty bitty critters that come crawling in to avoid the wicked storms that blow this way from May to September. I

f it has tiny legs and moves faster than my car, it’s got to go… and I’m not talking about rats. I got rid of the big rat almost six months ago. I’m talking about ants, roaches and anything else trying to escape the torrential rain.

It would be an understatement to say that I dislike bugs. I detest them, and it’s an obsession. Hence why I spend $40 every month to get my house sprayed by a big-named pest control company. If I thought it would help, I'd spend even more.

My bug guy is cool – in fact, he’s even inspirational. He doesn’t just get rid of my rodent problems; he gives me advice about my love life. It’s like a two-for-one deal. He’s so good I even stopped seeing my shrink. If only, he could service me in other ways. Sadly, he’s old enough to be my father -- so that’s a definite no go. He’s also married and devoutly religious.

I’ve become dependent on him. Although he was just here a week ago, those little sugar ants had quickly returned with vengeance. Sure I had only seen 10 of them… but it was 10 too many. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out. I was clean, almost to the point of neurotic. Yet it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, bugs still found a way in. My bug guy told me it went with the territory, that being the climate that I live in.