Of all the bugs in the world, centipedes are THE WORST.

Die centipedes DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you read my blog, you’ve probably noticed this isn’t my first rodeo with a centipede, or millipede, or whatever they are (read about another Stupid Centipede experience).

I am a magnet for these disturbing night monsters.

About a week and a half ago at 1 AM I considered my irrational fear conquered. I woke up needing to pee. I taped my phone on my nightstand to see what time it was, and low and behold there in the shadows was a centipede. It was on the wall right above my pillow. A huge freakin centipede. So what do I do? In my urgent state I simply grabbed twenty or so Kleenexes, smash him off the wall, and flush him down the toilet to never see his sight again.

I’m actually impressed I did all this. I credit my calm to my still half-asleep state.

This week was a whole other story.

I walked into my bedroom around 11PM, reach for my laptop and there on the curtains is the biggest centipede I have ever seen!!!

Immediately I jog backwards a couple of feet and gasp. I start pacing, not sure what to do. Could I kill it myself? Maybe, just maybe. I grab 20 sheets of paper towel and creep closer to the creature. The more I looked at it, the more freaked out I got. Legs. So many legs. I tried to reach forward to smash the bug, but then backed away. I tried again, but I just couldn’t. It was just too gross.

I started shaking and dancing around. Ew. Ew. Ew. As much as I was trying to be brave, I needed help. I called my boyfriend (who is now fully aware of my antics involved with killing a centipede) and explained to him I was being attacked.

“There’s a centipede in my room!” I said wildly into the phone. I put him on speaker and he talked me through trying to get the bug killed. I ditched the paper towels and grabbed a bathroom towel. I started yipping around and squealing as I came closer and closer to making my catch. And then, finally, I worked up enough courage to do it and smashed him in the towel.

And that was my breaking point.

With the phone still on speaker, I dropped the towel with the partially smashed bug, screamed and ran away.

A very confused mother (oh the joys of living at home) walked out of her bedroom in her bathrobe.

“Centipede!” I pointed at the towel and picked my phone back up. She grabbed the towel, to which I peered in but ran away again when I saw the bug was still twitching. She carried the towel into the bathroom. I shakily danced around, but I needed closure to this problem and had to watch the bug being flushed down the toilet. I told my mom thank you and she shook her head and went back to bed. I thanked my boyfriend for his moral support.

For me, it takes a team to deal with these bugs.