There's a palmetto bug in the kitchen. Maybe a inch and a half long. The king of the north american cockroach. Jenny has been begging everybody in the house to kill it, but we are all of the same mind.
"Jenny, you're going to have to learn to do this at some point, no time like the present."
The thing about Jenny is, she cannot relax if she has visibly verified that there is a palmetto bug anywhere in a one mile radius. All her time and energy will go into watching it, watching for it, keeping track of it's movements, and arming herself against it. Which would explain why this morning, she's sitting on the couch, staring into the kitchen, clutching the fly swatter.
Every time the cockroach moves, whether it moves in her direction or not, she shudders all over and squeals, which in turn makes everybody else laugh. Her terror over these things is very real, but we have all been there, and at some point she must confront this terror and rise above it.
Granted, having a palmetto bug jump on you, feels about like having a squirrel jump on you from the top of a twenty foot tree, but even so, we are much bigger than they are.
"Jenny, you live in the bug capitol of the US, there are about a gazillion more of those things just waiting to get into this house and you are going to be killing them on a regular basis as long as you live in Florida." I said, peering at her over the tops of my glasses. "Just smack it. The key is to smack it hard so it will die."
"I can't..." two tentative steps forward..."no! I can't! I just can't do it! It'll jump on me!"
"Look." I said. "You have to put your faith in your aim. If you ever kill one, then your confidence level will go up, and it won't be such a bug...I mean (grin) big deal."
"I know what!" She said suddenly, and ran into the living room, coming back with the hot shot that leans in the corner by the front door. "I'll ZAP it."
Only one of my kids would come up with using a cattle prod to kill a cockroach.
"Well, that might work. I honestly don't know if you can kill a cockroach with a hot shot or not. It would be a good experiment, unless..."
"Unless what?" Eyes like full moons.
"Unless you don't push the button fast enough and it just jumps on and runs up the handle to..."
"Aggg! I didn't think of that!" Dancing in a circle and brushing her arms off as if it had already happened.
"Okay then, either smack it with the fly swatter, or just leave it alone." Starting to lose my patience a wee bit. I was trying to force her into confronting her fear and taking that big step toward bug superiority.
"I can't leave it alone!"
"Why not?"
"Because I have to go through there to get to the bathroom!"
Sigh.
"Do you have any idea how astronomical the odds are that that bug is going to focus on you when you undoubtedly RACE by, and jump out and land on YOU when there are people coming and going through here all the time?"
"No, I don't care about odds. It's going to jump on me and I just know it."
You know, I was just thinking the other day how short life is, and how so often we let little opportunities slip by that we should have taken advantage of, and live to regret not taking action when we could, and making a difference in someone's life that they will never forget you for.
A time like now. A time that if not taken advantage of, will pass forever into obscurity never to return. Having convinced myself of the right thing to do, I reached for a small piece of paper and began to wad it up.
"Look," I said, concealing the wadded up paper in my hand, "just go to the bathroom, look at the thing. He's just perched up there on the wall by the stove, minding his own business, not bothering anybody, doesn't even know you exist. Just go, huh?"
"Well...." Fly swatter trembling in the air at the ready. "Uuuggghh....." another shudder.
"That's it, remember, compared to us, it's just a tiny little bug."
"I knooooow.....I knooooow...." A shaky step toward the bathroom. I could see that she had made her mind up that she was not going to humiliate herself by running, but was going to walk through calmly, with determination and honor. Which couldn't have suited my purposes more.
I waited until she got about halfway across the room and I let fly with my little wadded up paper, which hit her right between the shoulders.
"Look out! Look out!" I screamed. "It's on you! Run, run!"
Well, I'm quite sure her ear piercing shriek could be heard for miles. The poor bug just sat up there on the wall wondering what all the commotion was about, and the rest of us were rolling on the floor laughing.
"You're evil! You're awful! You're the reason I have nightmares!" She was really letting me have it, but being Jenny and having a fine healthy sense of humor, she was laughing and yelling at the same time. That's not to say she didn't get even. She got to use the flyswatter, she just used it on me and I figure it's safe to say that I will be killing palmetto bugs on her behalf from now until two thousand and nine when she turns eighteen and moves out.
Reply With Quote
