Bugged

As I've mentioned before, Britt isn't into bugs at all.

Well, this is unfortunate, since it seems to be a banner year for bugdom around here. We've had numerous roly-polies, spiders, ants, flies, and an assortment of beetles (not roaches, thank God) in the house lately, as well as a flock swarm whole lot of fruit flies, which is odd since we haven't had any fresh produce in the house in two weeks (bad Grammy!), except for a couple of onions on the counter. Do fruit flies do onions? Or maybe they're just gnats, I dunno.

Our recent episode with mosquitoes in the house seems to have magnified Britt's anti-bugness to the point that she runs screaming to the couch where she huddles, snuffling and hyperventilating, until Grammy removes the offending creature.

It's even worse when it's a fly/fruit fly/gnat because, by the time Britt shrieks and runs for cover, she's pointing at an invisible menace as the thing has flown to less turbulent areas of the house. So I have to sit and hold her, giving what comfort I can, while she gravely informs me, "Skeedos. Eat us."

(***sigh***)

I think it's gonna be a long summer.

In other news, Ginger Baker accidentally got shut up in our bedroom this evening and he pissed on the bed. On Mikey's side of the bed. Mikey, who loves this cat even less than I do.

I scrubbed the spot with upholstery cleaner but it still stinks and there's not much I can do about the pee that seeped down into the padding, is there? Maybe it's finally time to invest in my first-ever bottle of Febreze.

(***sigh***)