The windows are rolled up tight, and I might only be imagining the clouds of fumes filling the inside.....but they are in there.
My car is being fumigated. For bugs.
In my car.
This is the second time, the second car, the second month in a row that I have opened a car door and been greeted by antennae that were not attached to the radio. Twitching.
For the record? It's fucking disgusting.
I have no idea why or how they get in there. The theory (according to our Terminix guy, who I love FOR REAL) is that they are stowaways in dry goods. Grocery stores, shipping containers, factories.....they sometimes have, uh......bugs. And then when you put that random box of Frosted Miniwheats or bag of rice in your car, you may be bringing home some extra protein.
They should put THAT on the label. Nutritional facts of the food, and the food when you take the bugs into consideration.
It's the tropics. I keep telling myself that. It's not me. In all the years of driving cars that were literally filled with all of my belongings plus random snacks, years where I never so much as emptied the ashtray..........This is my first experience with having critters in my car.
And I don't like it One Little Bit.
Sami discovered them this time, which is good because I am already in full-blown paranoia over the uku season. I honestly think if I had opened the car door and watched bugs scatter in the glow of the dome light, that they would have had to admit me to the psych ward. I have a feeling I would have just stood there and screamed. And screamed. And continued screaming while the bugs poured out of the car and ran across the driveway and over my feet and up my legs and.....OK, clearly I am over-reacting and blowing this way out of proportion. But there were bugs IN MY CAR.
I went down and opened the doors a few minutes ago - there are still bugs in there, but at least they are dead. I swept most of them out (gagging) and then emptied the trunk and shook out the beach bag and the car seat and emptied all of the cupholders of napkins and crayons and then buckled everything back in and now I am sitting here, staring out the kitchen window at my truck, trying to work up the courage to get in it and drive somewhere.
So if you see a tearful woman talking to herself in Walmart who stinks of teatree oil and Raid, well....that's me.