Or: It is very strange to have adult responsibilities
We are very proud of our home. It’s a very grown-up thing to have. It keeps the rain off of our heads, and gives us a place to contain stinky ghosts and make marshmallows.
It also keeps us from living outside. This is very important, because I live in a place that’s full of bugs.* From March to November, the ground crawls and squirms. Creepy-crawlies hang from the trees and beetles zip through the air at inconvenient knee-level.
*Not Australia, though. Australians – how are you even still alive?
And they all want to come inside.
But you know what? They can’t. Because our house has a secret force field.
Want to know our secret?
It has taken me years to adjust to this strange forcefield. Spiders and I are, of course, natural enemies. Recently, however. our force field was endangered, because of an interloper and adult responsibilities.
You see, we have a mouse. Not a fluffy adorable pet mouse, who we would cuddle and love. A wall mouse. A mouse that scritches and scratches in our bedroom walls and wakes me from my beloved sleep. A mouse who might chew on our wires and throw our home into a electricity-free dystopia.
So I had to call another adult* to come help us deal with the mouse in the walls.
*Because my husband is aware that given the slightest opportunity, I would adopt this wall mouse and attempt to turn him into a pet mouse.
Here in our town,* the adult responsible for saving our precious electricity is also the adult responsible for keeping homes bug free. He is the Exterminator.** Which also means that he expected to spray our house for any other pests. He proclaimed the wonderful bargain we would receive: free pest control thrown in with mouse retrieval. He listed all the pests that would never be able to infest our home or darken our doorstep.
*And also pretty much every other town ever.
**This must be said with appropriate gravitas, obviously.
But even with the promise of science and technology protecting me, I found myself making a request I never expected to make:
The Exterminator was perplexed. He asked me if I was sure. He showed me where he could spray to chase the spiders away.*
*Chase them away from being alive. I’m on to his euphemisms.
But I’ve been brainwashed, somehow, by the guardians of our grown-up house. I couldn’t let this man destroy our forcefield.
Guys…I couldn’t let him kill the spiders.
And now I’m a little afraid I’ve lost my mind. But if you come to visit, please do not kill our spiders. I worked very hard* to defend them.
*Meaning I talked to another adult for like, 5 minutes. Like I said: very hard.