The hubby and I are house-sitting for a friend, and that requires that we stay for awhile. They have three cats and an ancient dog; all of them require food early in the morning (6:30 AM) and early evening (again 6:30). On top of that, the dog needs medication morning and night, as well. So, we've been staying n the house, catching glimpses of the two shy kitties, Ernie and Suki, and talking to the brazen kitty, Helen, and being careful of Missy, the dog so old she could probably tell us stories about "the good ol' days" when Full House played in the early afternoons and the ice cream man actually stopped and gave you ice cream for a dime.
The point of all of that set-up was to tell you about the terror I was confronted with when I went to take a shower in the house, which is rather old so bugs are something that must be confronted, I suppose. Anyway, I turned on the light and *tried to* gasp. I say *tried to* because I have a bit of a cold, and my throat is dry, hoarse, and pretty much useless right now, so the best I could do was squeak almost inaudibly. As a result, my husband didn't exactly come running. He didn't really coming running when I sprinted back into the bedroom and squeaked "There's a huge freaking bug in the bathtub!" either. But he did get up, and . . . the bug was gone when we went back into the bathroom. THE BUG WAS GONE!
Actually, this might do it justice.
We searched everywhere, and the hubs even ran the faucet for a few seconds in case it was hiding in the drain, but I've already told him I will not take a shower until he does and comes out unbitten/unstung/unattacked.
*shiver**gag**OMG it's looking at me*