You know the scene. It is nighttime. The heroine is in the shower, none the wiser to the terror a-brewing. She continues her toilette at the sink, looking forward to sleeping on fresh white sheets.

And then she hears it…the buzzing…the buzzing…THE BUZZING!

[ fade to black ]

There was not one, but two, humongous black flying things in my bathroom last night. I couldn’t find anything in my bedroom to whack at them with, so I closed the bathroom door to contain them and headed to the stairs, intending to go down and see if I had bug spray or something. On the wall above the lamp on the stairs THERE WAS ANOTHER ONE!!!

I ran with trepidation down to the kitchen, scrambling for something, anything, that might kill a bug.

MORE BUZZING!!! There were two more big flying things swirling around the kitchen ceiling!!!

AHHHHH!!!!

And, of course, there was no bug spray in the house at all; that fact, combined with my petite-ness, meant I’d be required to stand on things in order to take a whack at them. Frankly, I didn’t know if I was up to the task. (I was generally disgruntled about the fact that just moments prior I was blissfully preparing for bed and now I was confronting a home takeover — by big black flying things!)

The blame game began.
Had I left a window open? No.
Had I brought an infested plant into the house? No.
Had I not been as diligent about closing the door behind me when going to the mailbox and/or watering plants? Mayhaps?
But why did it take them all day long to make themselves known to me? AHHHHH!!!

In the end, the only spray I could find that might help was Lysol. I pointed it fearlessly at the ones in the kitchen, but they eluded the spray. In my villain voice, I shouted, “No, Mister Bug, I expect you to die!”

I carefully proceeded up the stairs. The one above the lamp was still there. I sprayed, sprayed, sprayed, but he also got away.

Then, I went back into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. I turned out lights hoping that any enemy combatants in there would prefer going into the lighted bathroom. I took a deep breath and turned the bathroom doorknob. The two were swirling at the light above the shower. I stealthily stood on top of the bathtub surround and then… sprayed! sprayed! sprayed!

One of the flying things dropped. The other mocked me.
I closed the door and gave them the bathroom for the night.

And then, surprisingly, I actually slept peacefully till morning.

But that was just a reprieve from the battle. For, at first light, I went back into the bathroom and found the one still buzzing, buzzing, BUZZING!

(FAST-FORWARD)

When I gave the kittens breakfast in their room, I deployed them to the battlefield as spotters.

I think we’ve gotten them all now, though for a while Mewey was staring at the windows and crying as if he kept seeing one. Finally, I saw him with his prize and managed to get it out of his mouth before he started chewing it.

Mewey, Trixie and I are feeling very proud and victorious. They’ve been given well-earned treats, and I’ve rewarded myself with camomile tea.