A Nightmare Comes True: An Intruder In the House!

The day started calmly enough.  The alarm went off at 8:00.  I lazed in bed until 8:30.  At 8:40 I checked to see how many people had read my blog.  All three of you!  Thanks for reading.

Headed to the bathroom.  Was sitting there, quietly minding my own…er…business, when suddenly!  out of the blue!  my biggest fear came true!

An intruder in the house!

He was huge and hairy with blood red eyes and sharp fangs and a million legs!  He heaved himself under the door of the bathroom and started hurtling across the floor.

Some people are afraid of heights.  Others are afraid of snakes.  Or flying.


I’m afraid of Million Leggers.  Here’s a close up I managed to get as he ran across the floor:

It’s completely irrational.

I don’t overreact with any other bug.  I mean, I don’t like it when a bug is in the house, but I can manage to (mostly) calmly catch the bug in a cup and take it outside where it can be rehabilitated.  In fact, I caught three stinkbugs in the boys’ bedroom today and all you heard me say was a gentle, ““Hey there, little buggy!  Out ya go!”

But not with Million Leggers.  When I catch sight of one of those monsters, all rationality flies out the window and the screaming begins.

And there I was, helpless, on the can, when it came heaving under the door of the bathroom and hurtling across the floor.

And the bathroom is very very small.  I have always loved that little bathroom because the ceramic heater heats it up in about 10 minutes and all winter long I stand in the bathroom by the heater reading books and thawing out.  But when you’re in a very small little bathroom, with a Million Legger the size of beagle, you start to resent little bathrooms.

Million Leggers like to crouch in dark corners.  Like young toughs hanging out in dark alleyways.

This Million Legger took off for the darkest corner he could find in the bathroom, which just so happened to be the corner with my shoes!

Thank goodness they were boots, or he would have flung himself over the sides and curled up in a scary little ball in the toes of the shoes and I’d have had to throw them away.

As you can see from the picture, I was close enough to lean over and rescue the boots, while letting out big whooping shrieks.

He didn’t like his hiding pace being moved, so he took off again.  And now the screaming started in earnest, because, as you can see, he was running right past my feet!

The boys asked later, “Why didn’t you step on him as he went by?” and Darling Husband said, “Because if she did, he would have reached up, grabbed her by the foot and flipped her over.”  Dead right!

He ignored my feet and went for the next darkest corner, and then he started climbing the wall!  So that he’d be closer to my jugular.

At this point, the children noticed their mother shrieking like a crazed loon in the bathroom and came running, calling through the door,  “What’s wrong?!”

“Million Legger!”

They were deliciously disgusted.  I called out, “Get me the bug cup! And make it a big one!”

Boy9 said, “I’m right on it!” and I could hear him thundering away to the kitchen to get one of the plastic cup we use to catch bugs.

While he was getting the cup, I managed to sort myself out without taking my eyes off the bug, so that by the time Boy9 got back with the cup, I was prepared to slam the cup over the bug.

But I missed!  And he went skittering across the floor, past the toilet!  I went dancing from the room as if outlaws were shooting at my feet.

He went under the vanity!

Whereupon, he disappeared!

How?!  How did he disappear?  I was staring right at him.  My Holmes deduction was that Million Leggers really are little aliens and he’d transported back to the mother ship.

I got a flashlight and looked to see if he was stuck to the underside of the vanity.  No….

I waited a moment, and the peeked back into the bathroom, and slowly started to enter, when…

THERE!  There he was, on the wall by the ceramic heater cord!

The shrieking began anew and the boys were jumping about in excitement.  This was bad news, that he was on the wall.  Usually for Million Leggers, I manage to cup them on the floor, and then I leave them under the cup until Darling Husband is available to bravely handle the Million Legger for me.

Without further consideration of what I’d do with the bug once the cup was on him, I covered him with the cup.

Now what?  With other bugs I would slip a piece of paper under the cup and then take the bug out, but that’s a tricky move.  If you don’t do it just right, and the paper’s too flimsy, the cup might lift up a smidge, and the bug can make a desperate dash through the opening.  And Million Leggers are fast.  If he got out of the cup, it would be only one leap onto my arm and then I’d simply die.  There would be no other option.  Instant death.

Holding the cup firmly, I told the boys, “Quick!  Get me four pieces of paper!” The boys were so overwhelmed with glee at the shrieking and the hunting and catching of the bug, that they started running in opposite directions and bumped into each other.  I was worried that the Million Legger would gnaw a hole in the cup while the boys were looking for paper, but eventually they got me the paper.  I folded the four sheets in half with my free hand and slipped it under the cup.

The next tricky part is getting the paper from the wall without making an opening for the bug to shoot out of.

Fortunately, it wasn’t my day to die, and I got the cup away from the wall.

“Boys!  Open the door!”  Again they ran about in circles for a bit, but the door was finally opened.  There was no way I was going to be anywhere near the cup when the angry bug came out of it, so with another blood curdling shriek, I threw the cup into the yard as far as it would go, paper and all, and slammed the door shut.


Later in the day, I was putting a few toys away in the attic.  I reached for this car.

And felt something drop onto my hand!  A Million Legger!

No, no…just a stinkbug.  I’m not afraid of stinkbugs.

No, wait!  Yes I am!  When they’re on my hand, yes I am afraid of stinkbugs.  I shrieked, flung the bug across the room, and he waddled off into a crack in the attic floor.

Boy7 called up the stairs, “You ok?!”  “Yes.  I just picked up a stink bug by accident.  Everything’s ok.”


Here are some pictures of dandelions in a field.

Sun glare-in the dark area at the top. Hard to see when the picture is small.

This was my first picture and there was that sun spot/glare thing going on.  An idea popped into my head: is my UV filter making the glare?  Took off the filter and the glare went away.  Who knew?

No sun glare

Here are a couple more pictures of the field.   They’re soothing after those terrifying bug pictures.