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I’m tired of vacuming up their dead little carcasses. I’m tired of catching their manic hopping bodies to toss outside. I’m tired of listening to them creak behind the bookshelf next to my bed at two in the morning. I’m tired of trying not to step on them. The final insult:

Cricket on Baby Yep. A cricket has hitched a ride with Tyoma. The two of them toured the hall and living room before I scooped up the offender and flung him out front. It will take the little devil at least a half a day to hop around the house and re-enter through the dog door. Sigh.

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