WEDNESDAY READER | MAY 17

I couldn’t help but notice the giant bug thing when ita appeared out of nowhere and jumped up into my face.

“AAAAHHH!”  I screamed, like any normal person would do when a giant bug thing jumps into her face.

“Bowie,” I said to the dog beside me once I recovered from the shock.  “Get the giant bug thing!”

My faithful dog, my protector, my friend for life, took one look at this bug when it landed and ran away with his tail between his legs.

“Coward!”  I yelled after him.

Now it was just me and the Gigant-a-bug.  I needed to get closer to get a better look at it, but I was afraid it was going to jump in my face again.  I inched up, alone and defenseless, as far as I dared, and peered at the enormous bug thing.

That’s when I realized it was a cricket — but not just your regular, everyday, run-of-the-mill cricket.  It was a megacricket.  A mammoth cricket.  It was … Bugzilla.

I recalled seeing one of these in my basement once in our old house in the suburbs and calling the National Guard.  That one didn’t just jump.  It got up on its back legs and told me to bug off.  Our washing machine was in the basement, and I decided, right then and there, that our days of clean underwear were over.

Meanwhile, back at our new house, I didn’t know if Bugzilla had followed me here or if this was a cousin looking to overthrow our new domain.  My bigger concern, however, was not this one Cave Cricket, as they’re called.  It was whether he had brought the entire extended family in his quest to rule our kingdom.

“Honey,” I said into the phone to my husband.  “We have a giant cricket in the house.”

“We live in the country now,” he said.  “There are more bugs here.”

“OUTSIDE,” I yelled.  “The bugs belong OUTSIDE!”

“Well, I don’t speak bug so I can’t tell them that,” he said.

I hung up the phone and looked around, but Bugzilla was gone.  This was bad news.  The only thing worse than seeing a giant bug is seeing a giant bug and then having it disappear and show up later, somewhere else in the house, when you least expect it.  Kind of like when your mother-in-law visits.

I grabbed a fly swatter, which is kind of like bringing a water pistol to a duel, and went back to the scene of the crime, but there was no cricket.  I searched the room.  NO cricket.  I searched the entire floor.  No cricket.  At this point I decided there was only one thing to do.

An hour later my husband came home.  I greeted him at the door with my suitcase.

“Did you get rid of the cricket?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you know where the cricket is?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

He looked at my suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”  I said.  “I’m bugging out.”

~ Tracy Beckerman is the author of the Amazon Bestseller, “Barking at the Moon: A Story of Life, Love, and Kibble.”  You can visit her at www.tracybeckerman.com