Crap, I hate this over full bladder! It's 4:30 in the morning for God's sake and I have to go pee! Reaching across my chest to brush the hair away, tickling between my breasts, my hand stopped abruptly at the feel of a small bump. That shouldn't be there! Now I gotta get up, go pee, and worry about spiders? This is not going to be a good day, I thought in my sleepy haze. Pinching the bug between my fingers, I stumbled to the bathroom and sat on the toilet to take care of this pressing need. Better to stumble down the hall than keep dreaming of a bladder infection, I thought. Sleepily I opened my fingers, then screamed!!!! BED BUG!!! EVERYONE UP! NOW!
To my absolute horror there they were in our bed. The room spun around as if on some strange merry go round but this was not the park. Stomach began turning so violently that I was certainly happy it had been many hours since I last ate. But not these little ass holes on my sheets, they were well fed and ready to sleep off the pure ecstasy of our very essence somewhere nice cozy and dark!!!
RAPISTS!!! Everyone of you... I did not invite you into my bed!! You did not ask to be admitted to our most sacred space and you come in the middle of the night to steal what is MINE!!! I raged as they each made a sick popping sound between my finger nails. The popping sound and blood splatter was all that could console my tormented mind and emotionally it was quite satisfying in a sick twisted kind of way.
I knew of Bed Bugs but surely they would never visit my sanctuary. There just was no way that they would dare enter my bug free zone. Everyone in the neighborhood knows of my Bug Phobia after the great roach event last year when a person moved into the duplex next door bringing their beloved guests with them. We have bought the duplex to keep this from ever happening again. Beloved pets my ASS!!! When they decided to breach the wall to our side... it was on and within a few weeks and many bombings, powders and midnight flipping of lights, every single one of them was TOAST.... Not my guests, not in my sanctuary, not going to happen. So why in the world would any self loving Bed Bug think that coming into my home, no matter how tasty we might be, was a good idea? Let alone decide to set up housekeeping in the linens stored under the bed? Oh it is war I screamed. You will all die, your children, your unborn children, your parents, your grandparents! Before I am done, you will publish it in every Bed Bug paper, every Bed Bug news cast and wire..... whatever you do, pass by this house don't go in. The very headlines will read 'Human Epidemic, Hostile Environment Detected'. Genocide, nothing less would do and I will MAKE it happen I thought while searching the internet for every possible tid bit of information about the rapists in our bedroom.
When the neighbors began waking up, I continued the research project seeking personal experience with these creatures of the night. Until moving to Ohio we actually believed it was just one of those childhood rhymes... 'Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite'. But no, they are real things, blood suckers, rapists, and they will come in the middle of the night setting up their own domain with a super military precision that would make any Governments armed forces marvel at their silent, pacifistic, uninvited coup attempt. The neighbor two doors down had spent $6,000 to rid her home of the unwanted guests through heat treatments. The neighbor next door had spent $1,100 on fumigation after seeing just 1 on her bedroom wall. The neighbor on the other side of me said that she thought they had them but their landlord wouldn't do anything about it so she just continues cleaning a lot. Ummm no, that was not an option. By the way each of these neighbors are quite clean, they do not generally have a lot of stuff stacked in corners, their homes are presentable and I would not have guessed without this fact finding mission that they would be visited by the current bane of my existence.
We began trying to figure out how they got in. Its always nice to have someone to blame. The only thing we could think of was a guest that came to stay for 2 months during the winter. Yes, that had to be it because the rapists in our home had not yet spread household wide and we only saw any trace of them in our bedroom which is right next door to the guest bedroom. The timing for our level of infestation fit perfectly with our winter guests stay. When I get the time, I think a good flogging is in order and the ways I could torture this person brought a welcome distraction from the now creepy feelings all over my body.
We tore the sheets, mattress protector, spread and comforter from the bed taking them to the basement immediately, no stops along the pathway, where an ultra hot bath awaited them. We turned up the temperature on the hot water tank to be certain that nothing could survive the almost boiling hot bath that awaited them. Each load received ample amounts of bleach. I could replace everything later, Our beautiful red linen's now a strange color of burnt orange, the floral of the comforter now looking as if it had been hung on a clothes line for at least 10 years becoming sun bleached was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of each and every rapist's scream as it died a most (hopefully) painful death. It is only sad that I had to just imagine the screams being so small ( I am not even certain they have a sound device capable of the only sounds I wished to hear). After washing, each and every item for our bed, it went into the dryer for another hour. Nothing could possibly survive that and I felt a tiny relief in knowing that our bed would be free of the ass holes that night. If I have to, I will wash our bedding every day for the rest of our lives, I swore out loud to any remaining Buggy relatives listening.
We got out the Diatomaceous Earth that I use around the garden plants to ward away anything that might want to tear asunder our hard work. We went to the store and picked up 91% alcohol and plugged in the steamer.
Now to get busy! The mattress is steamed every two weeks and in all the steamings I saw no sign of a bug. What I didn't look at, however, was the box springs. As we slid the mattress off of the box springs I screamed... GET IT OUT OF HERE!!! In horror I looked at the home they had built, seeming quite cozy setting up an entire Community, no a State, no Country, possibly an entire Continent of their very own I said... consider yourself EVICTED! Down the stairs we went and to the alley, no stops, no setting it down on the floor, no reprieve of any kind they left the bedroom. Again we inspected the mattress, no sign at all, nothing that indicated a problem. Thankfully we had an old fashioned box springs in the attic. You probably remember them or have seen them at your Great Grandparents, no fabric, just springs on a metal frame. Yes, no where to hide... no where at all!
We began tearing dressers apart and hauling every piece of fabric to the basement. No sign of any type of bug in, under, over or near the dressers but just in case another bottle of 91% alcohol was loaded into my weapon of choice, a garden pump sprayer. The steamer was happily percolating where it rested on the top step of the step ladder which was set up for the over the door/window jam inspections.
We dusted the perimeter of the room. "Do not let even one tiny nymph escape!", I announced defiantly to my partner, dripping with sweat and gagging from the alcohol fumes. By this time I knew we had them cornered and cornered they would stay, no where to run... die asshole... DIE!!
The dressers were reassembled after their steaming with Diatomaceous Earth (now being just called D.E.) covered with a single layer of newspaper to protect our clothing once it was properly heat treated in the dryer and returned. The newly steamed, alcohol sanitized mattress was dusted with D.E. covered with the mattress cover then one by one, fresh scalded sheets, comforter and bed spread.
By 1am we were certain that we had done all that could be done for one day and collapsed between the freshly sanitized sheets.
I touched my partners arm gently and whispered... "You do realize that we are the bait don't you?" She groaned something inarticulate then we both feel sound to sleep.
6/19/2013
To my absolute horror there they were in our bed. The room spun around as if on some strange merry go round but this was not the park. Stomach began turning so violently that I was certainly happy it had been many hours since I last ate. But not these little ass holes on my sheets, they were well fed and ready to sleep off the pure ecstasy of our very essence somewhere nice cozy and dark!!!
RAPISTS!!! Everyone of you... I did not invite you into my bed!! You did not ask to be admitted to our most sacred space and you come in the middle of the night to steal what is MINE!!! I raged as they each made a sick popping sound between my finger nails. The popping sound and blood splatter was all that could console my tormented mind and emotionally it was quite satisfying in a sick twisted kind of way.
I knew of Bed Bugs but surely they would never visit my sanctuary. There just was no way that they would dare enter my bug free zone. Everyone in the neighborhood knows of my Bug Phobia after the great roach event last year when a person moved into the duplex next door bringing their beloved guests with them. We have bought the duplex to keep this from ever happening again. Beloved pets my ASS!!! When they decided to breach the wall to our side... it was on and within a few weeks and many bombings, powders and midnight flipping of lights, every single one of them was TOAST.... Not my guests, not in my sanctuary, not going to happen. So why in the world would any self loving Bed Bug think that coming into my home, no matter how tasty we might be, was a good idea? Let alone decide to set up housekeeping in the linens stored under the bed? Oh it is war I screamed. You will all die, your children, your unborn children, your parents, your grandparents! Before I am done, you will publish it in every Bed Bug paper, every Bed Bug news cast and wire..... whatever you do, pass by this house don't go in. The very headlines will read 'Human Epidemic, Hostile Environment Detected'. Genocide, nothing less would do and I will MAKE it happen I thought while searching the internet for every possible tid bit of information about the rapists in our bedroom.
When the neighbors began waking up, I continued the research project seeking personal experience with these creatures of the night. Until moving to Ohio we actually believed it was just one of those childhood rhymes... 'Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite'. But no, they are real things, blood suckers, rapists, and they will come in the middle of the night setting up their own domain with a super military precision that would make any Governments armed forces marvel at their silent, pacifistic, uninvited coup attempt. The neighbor two doors down had spent $6,000 to rid her home of the unwanted guests through heat treatments. The neighbor next door had spent $1,100 on fumigation after seeing just 1 on her bedroom wall. The neighbor on the other side of me said that she thought they had them but their landlord wouldn't do anything about it so she just continues cleaning a lot. Ummm no, that was not an option. By the way each of these neighbors are quite clean, they do not generally have a lot of stuff stacked in corners, their homes are presentable and I would not have guessed without this fact finding mission that they would be visited by the current bane of my existence.
We began trying to figure out how they got in. Its always nice to have someone to blame. The only thing we could think of was a guest that came to stay for 2 months during the winter. Yes, that had to be it because the rapists in our home had not yet spread household wide and we only saw any trace of them in our bedroom which is right next door to the guest bedroom. The timing for our level of infestation fit perfectly with our winter guests stay. When I get the time, I think a good flogging is in order and the ways I could torture this person brought a welcome distraction from the now creepy feelings all over my body.
We tore the sheets, mattress protector, spread and comforter from the bed taking them to the basement immediately, no stops along the pathway, where an ultra hot bath awaited them. We turned up the temperature on the hot water tank to be certain that nothing could survive the almost boiling hot bath that awaited them. Each load received ample amounts of bleach. I could replace everything later, Our beautiful red linen's now a strange color of burnt orange, the floral of the comforter now looking as if it had been hung on a clothes line for at least 10 years becoming sun bleached was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of each and every rapist's scream as it died a most (hopefully) painful death. It is only sad that I had to just imagine the screams being so small ( I am not even certain they have a sound device capable of the only sounds I wished to hear). After washing, each and every item for our bed, it went into the dryer for another hour. Nothing could possibly survive that and I felt a tiny relief in knowing that our bed would be free of the ass holes that night. If I have to, I will wash our bedding every day for the rest of our lives, I swore out loud to any remaining Buggy relatives listening.
We got out the Diatomaceous Earth that I use around the garden plants to ward away anything that might want to tear asunder our hard work. We went to the store and picked up 91% alcohol and plugged in the steamer.
Now to get busy! The mattress is steamed every two weeks and in all the steamings I saw no sign of a bug. What I didn't look at, however, was the box springs. As we slid the mattress off of the box springs I screamed... GET IT OUT OF HERE!!! In horror I looked at the home they had built, seeming quite cozy setting up an entire Community, no a State, no Country, possibly an entire Continent of their very own I said... consider yourself EVICTED! Down the stairs we went and to the alley, no stops, no setting it down on the floor, no reprieve of any kind they left the bedroom. Again we inspected the mattress, no sign at all, nothing that indicated a problem. Thankfully we had an old fashioned box springs in the attic. You probably remember them or have seen them at your Great Grandparents, no fabric, just springs on a metal frame. Yes, no where to hide... no where at all!
We began tearing dressers apart and hauling every piece of fabric to the basement. No sign of any type of bug in, under, over or near the dressers but just in case another bottle of 91% alcohol was loaded into my weapon of choice, a garden pump sprayer. The steamer was happily percolating where it rested on the top step of the step ladder which was set up for the over the door/window jam inspections.
We dusted the perimeter of the room. "Do not let even one tiny nymph escape!", I announced defiantly to my partner, dripping with sweat and gagging from the alcohol fumes. By this time I knew we had them cornered and cornered they would stay, no where to run... die asshole... DIE!!
The dressers were reassembled after their steaming with Diatomaceous Earth (now being just called D.E.) covered with a single layer of newspaper to protect our clothing once it was properly heat treated in the dryer and returned. The newly steamed, alcohol sanitized mattress was dusted with D.E. covered with the mattress cover then one by one, fresh scalded sheets, comforter and bed spread.
By 1am we were certain that we had done all that could be done for one day and collapsed between the freshly sanitized sheets.
I touched my partners arm gently and whispered... "You do realize that we are the bait don't you?" She groaned something inarticulate then we both feel sound to sleep.
6/19/2013