Xena: Warrior Bug Princess

For those of you who were doubting the validity of the humongous bug - here is the evidence. If I had any David Bellamy genes in my DNA (which I clearly don't) I would have positioned a ruler or a small child next to it, so you could really appreciate the scale of its bugtastic self before morphing into Xena the Warrior Bug Princess to tackle the problem.

I was hoping that Captain Underpants or Johnny Drama would step into the breach - demonstrate all their testosterone wonderfulness by capturing the bug and flushing it down the loo or burying it in the pots on the deck. But no such luck. They are clearly bigger girls than I am.

I didn't have a plan as such. There was this idea, lurking at the back of my mind, of a potential solution that involved launching an unsuspecting Johnny Drama into the bath, directly onto the bug. Johnny Drama is a solid little chap and - even given the bug's impressive proportions - I was calculating that the general advantage in his girth and weight would be sufficient to squash the bug pretty flat. But I wasn't confident in the accuracy of my aim or even that I would be physically able to both lift JD and then actually throw him, so I was ultimately forced to discard this simple and appealing idea.

We all went gingerly upstairs. Each donning our own preferred brand of armour to wrestle the beast. Both boys were brandishing light sabers, Johnny Drama was wearing a bike helmet and Captain Underpants had a colander on his head (we were a bike helmet down and it was the best I could do in the urgent circumstances). I was armed with rubber gloves, a long handled broom and dustpan, a kitchen roll and pair of sunglasses. I had an idea that the last accessory would dull my vision and reduce the bug's glorious hideousness...but no chance. At this point in the 'game' I was still hopeful that the boys would exhibit a combination of curiosity and courage that would enable me to yell instructions from the relative safety of the bedroom door, whilst they chased the bug around the bath, captured it in whatever form necessary and dispose of it in any violent fashion they deemed fit. Nope. They simply exhibited an obviously inherited tendency to scream like a girl and run from the room, never to be seen again. Big help.

I took several deep breaths - nearly knocking myself unconscious inhaling toxic levels of stale sweat and grime fumes - and knew at this point but I had no alternative but to continue. I can do this...I can do this...

I rolled up a massive wad of kitchen roll and approached the bath - then threw the huge white wad in the general vicinity of the bath and ran out of the room shrieking. Oh, very impressive. What I had expected from that feeble maneuver I'm not sure. That the bug would climb into the middle of the kitchen roll and then propel itself out of the bath and into the waiting toilet bowl, flush the chain and disappear? I crept back into the bathroom and peeked over the rim of the bath. Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph...the bug, having been dormant for the past 48 hours, was now sprinting circuits around the radius of the bath - obviously building up the necessary energy to leap from its porcelain prison, grab me round the neck and choke me to death.

Okay. This was it. Time to take charge. Time for definitive action. I took another deep breath (when would I learn?) and stepped into the breach, alone but armed with a steely glint in my eye and a broom. Mr bug was still practising his 400m dash around the perimeter of MY bath. Not for much longer. I stifled a girly eek and reached into the bath to turn on the shower. Then closed my eyes and gingerly waved the broom in a sweeping motion towards the plug hole.

I squint sideways to see how effective this approach is. The bug has paused, turned to face its adversary and is clearly ready to pounce on the bristles, rush up the broom handle and dive into my right ear. We begin to wrestle for possession of the broom - well, this is how it appears through my squint - and finally the combination of flood, bristles and a gaping hole into a sewer abyss is too much for my unwelcome visitor. Bye bye bugee man. I win! I win! I win! Yeay, for Xena the brave Warrior Bug Princess. I leave the shower running for a minute or so to make sure he is truly no more and then return triumphant downstairs to get on with making dinner.

That should be the end of the story. But of course it isn't. About half an hour later I return skipping lighthearted and carefree up to the bathroom for my long awaited shower. And he's back. Just sitting there looking at me defiantly. The super hero of bug land. Still languishing in my bath. You ain't getting rid of me that easy, amateur bug lady. Oh, and do me a favour. Have a bath will you love? Cos you bloody stink. This time I am taking no prisoners. I instantly put the shower on the highest temperature - I will scald all of your evil little legs off, if nothing else, you bastard. I grab the shower squeegee and lunge with the speed of a ninja towards my opponent. Hiiiiiiiii-YAAAH!! In an instance he is a whirling dervish of frenzied activity but I am not backing down like a wimp this time. Hiiiiiii-YAH! Hiiiiii-YAH! And yet again, Xena the Warrior Bug Princess reigns supreme.

This time I leap in the shower for the few minutes that I can guarantee it is bug free and wash layers of dirt from every orifice. I am clean. I can re-enter society once more without the sound of surreptitious sniffing and face scrunching all around me. I do not let my guard down once the whole time I am standing in the bath. I am beginning to get a glimpse of what this bug could be capable of and do not want to take any more unnecessary risks. As soon as the shower is done I close the plug hole (why it hadn't occurred to me to do this the first time I don't know. Probably because I am stooopid.)

But I am still not convinced that is the last that I have seen of him.