Mr Music is one of those guys who leaves no doubt in your mind about his manliness. He does sports. He is lax about personal hygiene. He cannot find things in drawers or closets. He enjoys body sounds. He loves studying battles. He was just 3 at 9/11 and his response was to let me know he would go and get Bin Laden, I did not have to worry. But there is a weak spot in Mr Music's armor and if Bin Laden is smart he has some bugs or spiders around to protect him.
This morning Mr Music came to me a bit worked up (a friend of mine growing up used to claim his mother was in "a flying state of hysteria" and the phrase fits here) and told me he had a real problem: "Beetles have nested in my sock and it is full of them." Well, given the, uh, manly nature of Mr Music's general attention to such things as keeping dirty laundry where it ought to be, and having been away most of the past two weeks, it seemed entirely credible some beetles may have found some tasty morsel in a sock under his bed and decided to call it home for their young'uns. I don't actually know enough about Japanese Beetles nurturing behaviors to know if stinky socks hold appeal or not. So, I instructed Mr Music to bring me the offending sock so I could Take Care Of It, hoping he is right and it is beetles and not something far nastier, such as a dead rodent.
He brought it to me, holding it gingerly, by a thumb and one finger, and at arm's length. I was glad not to smell any stench or see any distressing appearance to the sock. I held it over the kitchen trash can and took a careful look in. I dumped out one, yes, one, already dead beetle in the trash.
And that is the end of the story. |
