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Family, Non-fiction

Daily Prompt: Arachnawhoha

“I’m not going in there.”

“But honey, it’s not going to hurt you; look at how small it is.”

“That’s not small. Plus, they crunch when you squish them and they smell when they die.”

“That’s the exoskeleton. What, wait–huh? They do what when they die?!”

“They smell.”

“Crickets do not smell when they die.”

“Do so.”

“Do not. Listen: I’m not going to have this ‘who’s on first’ with you. Now, do you want me to go kill it or what?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Ah, hello kiddies! Been missin’ ya surely I have.

What? Where’ve I been? Why, under the NaNoWriMo rock of course. I passed the 50K mark last night and now am back in the world of the flashers. So pull open your overcoat and settle in.

The pixies at the Daily Post wanted to know about our deepest and darkest:

People are afraid of all kinds of things: spiders, the dark, or being enclosed in small spaces. Tell us about your greatest fear — rational or irrational.

I am no fan of spiders. And there’s nothing irrational about it, nosiree. It doesn’t matter if they are the garden variety, which my dear Christopher insist are good for the environment, or if they are of the Black Widow or Brown Recluse varieties (which both insist on coming to visit our interior spaces): spiders are not it.

But as the story above suggests, I have a very serious dislike for crickets. When I was a kid, one of my chores was to sweep the garage; our inside dog spent lots of time out there and would shed on the cement floor. I had to sweep up the hair and often there were dead crickets in the sweepings that gathered in the corners like tumbleweed. And when I tell you there is an odor to dead crickets (at least in South Jersey), trust my word. It was an odor that gave me the creeps and made me nauseous. And still does, even if California crickets don’t smell when they die. My mental olfactory memories bring it back in vibrant smell-o-vision. I grew to hate crickets because of it. Well, it contributed to my dislike of the things, but still.

Not sure if I was afraid of them, but I add them to this list of irrational whats-its that we want no parts of.

And there you have it, friends.

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