A leeeetle freak out

I don't mind bugs so much if they stay outdoors and off my person. Silverfish are particularly troublesome for my dad when they are sighted by me. There was one unfortunate evening very late night when I awoke him twice because of a sighting in my room. It evaded us the first time but juuuust as talked myself off the thatthingisgoingtocrawlintomymouthwhileIsleep ledge and was about to shut off the light, it scurryscurryscampered its way down the closet door in my bedroom. Cue freak out numero dos of the night. Fast forward a few years to my college apartment. Silverfsh darts across the living room before I can blink twice. Shudder. Shudder. Things should not have more than six (or twenty) legs. A couple days later I see it speeding across my apartment bedroom and lunge for it, squashing it with my boot without a moment's hesitation. Nas-tay. And effective. I thought I was triumphant and had overcome my unfortunate squeemish ways.

Fast forward a few months until this evening. Sitting on the computer in my parents' home, minding my own beeswax when allofasudden there is something on my arm. A stink bug*. Multiple expletives race through my mind as I not-so not shrilly implore my dad to "GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF." That bugger (lame pun intended, you're welcome) was making its way closer and closer to my face as I flailed gracefully hopped around. Not. Okay. Thankfully Dad got it off my sweater and disposed of it with only minor irritation (and four or five reminders that "they are completely harmless calm down") at my freakout. Guess we're not quite there yet.

*My brother once semi-unintentionally squashed one. No skunk-smell (or any odor) resulted. the jury's still out on whether it was actually a stink bug, the whole thing is a hoax, or if we encountered some mutant. I'm banking on option three, for the excitement factor.