The Lonely Cricket

I wish I had taken a picture. I didn't think about it until I'd tossed the little guy out the back door Monday afternoon.

Beej mentioned it on facebook, but for a while now--come to think of it, a long while because I don't even remember exactly when he got in--there has been a cricket living under our fridge.

I heard him one evening after all the lights had been turned out, singing his little heart out...or wings off...or whatever.

Anyway, every night, when we went to bed, he'd start up. At first we were pretending like we were camping outdoors, being serenaded by our little friend. But then, night after night, it really started to get annoying.

Then Beej named him Chuck...or something like that. I don't even remember now. Gosh, way too long. Not good.

Long story short, last night was our first night sans cricket in a long time.

I caught him yesterday and just didn't have the heart to kill him. I kill spiders with a vengence--hate them, scared of them, least favorite insect. But crickets, well, I just couldn't do it.

By now, he's probably reunited with his buddies and heralding them with his weeks of living in a house. I seriously can't believe he lasted as long as he did.