Critter wars.

This morning the ants reclaimed the kitchen.

Not in the same swarms, but every time I killed one on the counter a new one appeared. It was frustrating to say the least.

E took the two older kids for a movie. T had an important appointment at the nail salon, and I am not being sarcastic. That is important. And I need one, too. It's been three years.

My one goal for today was to get every floor in this house clean. And I did. They are all vacuumed, swept, dusted, mopped or polished. Every last one of them. Even the basement.

And while I was in the basement I met a silverfish. This is the third one. I got my silverfish smashing flip-flop and smashed it. It ran on my first attempt and I almost lost it. I had to pull out my night stand to get it and I finally killed it just a few inches from the head of my bed.

I didn't have the means or the nerve to clean it up right away. I literally gagged a few times because its legs kept twitching. They always keep twitching.

I went to fold laundry and I kept an eye on it, because the only thing I believe can rise from the dead besides Jesus, is a silverfish.

Now, before I continue let me just backtrack a little bit.

I've been living here for three weeks now. Every morning I wake up with a new bite on one of my arms. Just one. Not very big, not itchy. Just a red, raised bump where something bit me.

The last time this happened every morning after consecutive nights I found the culprit living under my bed. A tiny black spider who suffered at the hose of my vacuum cleaner.

Today, I woke up with yet another bite on my arm, this one below the sleeve line. The biter is getting gutsy.

And then, while the dead silverfish remained smeared on the wall, and I stood no closer than five feet away folding laundry and singing along to the Dixie Chicks, the very spider who is eating me slowly, crawled out from behind my bed, which is purposely three inches away from the wall, and began feeding on the silverfish.

SICK NASTY.

I retrieved my shoe of death and tried to kill the little curse word who is spotting my arms. But I was still so grossed out by the first carcass that I couldn't bring myself to smack it again. The spider was too close to the silverfish and I missed it. Then he ran back behind the bed.

I can expect to wake up with a new bite mark tomorrow.

And the minute I get home from church, that thing is dead.

When the baby woke up from his nap we ate lunch and the two of us headed off to the pool. I held one of his hands while he ran around the one-foot kiddie pool. I showed him a bug and he tried to touch it. It was one of those speckled waterbugs with sticky feet and when he touched it, it latched on.

He spent the next few seconds trying to shake it off while I laughed. Plus I was still on the phone, so I had my priorities.

We got home to T and R lounging around the house. I showered and did some lounging of my own. At dinner time, I opted to take over dinner and leave T to the yard work. Yard work is hard.

The kids ate and we made Rice Krispie treats. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but then I let them eat some too.

While I put the baby to bed the two kids ran around the house like wild things. T left to get more garden supplies.

E got home, and eventually T did too and the whole lot of them went outside to work in the yard and catch fireflies. They nabbed four, and I fixed them a plastic container with air holes.

When the kids were finally in bed, T and E went out for a late dinner.

I came downstairs to relax and blog and was interrupted quickly by R screaming, "Kim! I need you quick! I really need you! I'm serious! HELP! THE FIREFLIES CAN GET OUT! THERE'S REALLY ONE IN MY ROOM!"

I have to tell you, I laughed the whole way up, the whole time I was catching the loose bug and the whole time I was poking smaller holes in a new container.

I showed R that I had fixed the problem but she still didn't want them in her room. Poor guys are hanging out with me in the playroom for a while then. I'd let them go, but the house alarm is set and I don't remember or care what the code is.

Before I go to bed, I need to face the other spider in my life. He lives in my bathroom. He used to live between the garbage can and the wall, but I have to move the can when I clean in there, so I told him if he wanted to stay, he needed to find new lodging.

He set up shop in the crack between the shower and the sink.

I let him live because I found him during the great ant fiasco of 2011 and I needed an ally. I hate my bathroom enough, I don't want it crawling with ants too. I'd prefer this one little spider, and he is pretty little.

I get the feeling though that he wants to bite me, because all spiders do. I am delicious.

The other reason I think that, is that every time I go in there he starts creeping out of his crack and trying to get close to me.

At first I would be tempted to kill him but as our friendship grows, I've begun just blowing at him and the wind startles him back into his hole. Today I told him I've killed his kind before and I'll do it again so he better learn his place and stop trying to bite me all the time.

Sheesh.

I feel like Bella over here. Only prettier and with a personality and a brain.