I hate bugs. Seriously. Hate bugs.
Hubby loves them. If he sees one inside he rushes to its rescue before I can stomp on it…if I even have the balls to stomp on a bug that day.
He found a beetle on its back and its leg all messed up and nursed it back to health on our balcony before it flew away. What was I doing during this? Freaking out that he was touching it, while cowardly waiting for it to be gone. I have no idea where this fear of bugs came from but when I was a kid I was TERRIFIED of butterflies. Like, I remember crying because a butterfly flew next to me in our backyard. Who does that? Flying bugs are so much worse.
We have our first outbreak of tiny little fruit flies. I blame Germany and its ‘no garbage disposal’ lameness. No matter how many times I pour a baking soda and white vinegar cocktail down the drain, the flies still come out of it. So now the house has vinegar/lemon soap booby traps all over, catching the little buggers in the act.
Hubby could care less about them which infuriates me.
Especially when I have my coffee cup sitting out for 5 minutes before I find two bugs floating inside. They love coffee. Not as much as I do, so after washing out my mug 25 times to get rid of any bug residue, I now have to cover my cup with a napkin so I dont get roofied by a fruit fly.
Hubby says it was probably coffee grinds. With wings. Real cute.
P.S. our coffee table is permanently covered in Legos now.