I am trying to figure this out. Here in southern California, we have an array of bugs I had never experienced up on the tundras of Minnesota. The most notable of which is the palmetto bug. Now for those of you who do not KNOW the palmetto bug, do not let the innocuous name fool you. Palmetto bugs are, in essence, gigantic flying cockroaches. We are talking 3 to 4 inch long flying cockroaches. Cockroaches that, if so inclined, could probably eat your children. EEWWWWW. And I used to think June Bugs were bad.
Anyhow, we also have a large family of crickets that wander in and out of our garage. Every once in awhile we get a stray cricket in the house, and other than the racket, the crickets are no big whoop. The palmetto bugs, on the other hand, EEWWWWWW! Maybe once every few months, one of the big, nasty, ugly, disgusting, gross, abominable, foul, awful, icky, revolting, vile and gruesome creatures finds its way into the house. And my reaction to them is NOT pretty.
Well, our daughter, K, whenever she sees a cricket, she goes running to her dad and says, "Daddy, cricket!" and M comes to chase the cricket, catch it, and release it back outside. Whenever she sees a palmetto bug, she comes to me and screams, "MAMA! ICKY BUG!!!!" Even when her dad is home. How the hell does this work, that I, the person who is most revolted by the palmetto bugs, have the demand for disposal of the foetid creature placed on me??? It is NOT fair!