Saturday, August 2, 2008


My house is in fairly decent shape--mostly sanitary, a little cluttered. The bathroom might smell like poopy diapers. I don't usually worry about having people over.

But right now we have several hundred houseguests of the ewww variety, namely millipedes. In the last 4 or 5 years they've been vacationing here in late summer. I don't know where they came from or why they return, but they're visiting my neighbor, too. Blech. For the most part, they confine themselves to our library, the bathroom and the basement. Oh, and all over our front walk and the outside of our door. Gross.

Short of sweeping and vacuuming and ignoring them, there doesn't seem to be a lot we can do until they go away. So we live with them. (and their cousins the asian lady beetle, who visits our sunny windows in February. And the great big ants who visit in May. And the earwigs, who will stop by and stay awhile later in the summer. Then there is the occasional itinerant tick who stows away and the tiny sugar ants I invite to the Terro party under my sink.) Each year, there seems to be a new family who discovers our resort.

Anyway, Rose Bud had a friend overnight.

I was just a tad nervous about Pheasant coming over. I mean, her mom keeps a pretty snazzy house. All picked up, clean, chicken soup simmering on the stove. I could just imagine her going home and sharing how we have creepy crawlies everywhere. No more overnights for Rose Bud and Pheasant.

So I'm sitting in the kitchen drinking my coffee and I hear:

"Look! He's lifting his head!"

"This one is standing up!"

"You can't even feel them."

"I have 3. How many do you have?"

"I wonder what I should name mine?"

Rose Bud, Pheasant, Daisy and Banana Boy were having a millipede circus in our library. They were teaching them tricks and having races. Pheasant named hers Fabio.

I guess she wasn't grossed out by our bugs.

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