I hate bugs. It is a true source of embarrassment to me because it conflicts with the idea I have of myself as a competent grown up. Russia is resplendent with all manner of creepy crawlies.  When we first  moved into our house I had to clean up a lot of fly carcasses and there were still quite a few live ones flying around. I thought it was weird that there were so many flies around with snow on the ground. Then I started noticing more and more bugs in the house. I was discussing it with one of the other American families, and it turns out they come in through the walls. Yes, the walls.

                This isn’t a horror movie, this is my house. I realize it probably isn’t a big deal, but in my mind’s eye I see flies elbowing there way between the logs , “Yep, almost there, gotta go gross Meggan out.”

                The truly unsettling thing is when I've told other people here about it they seem very nonchalant. Apparently I am the only one completely and totally freaked out by bugs with the ability to make it through walls. Yuck.

                So, as embarrassing as my squeamishness is, to a large extent I am able to hide it. Last week AJ and I were hanging out with another American and her daughter waiting for Dave to get out of a meeting. She had just described to me the bugs in Missouri, completely convincing me that I will never live in Missouri, and Dave came in. I saw something on his back moving around a little. It was a tick. I then proceeded to freak out a little and try and get it off his back with a paper towel. I got it off but couldn’t crush it, and I was doing a little icky dance to accompany my panic.  I am a total weenie.

                A couple days later AJ and I were driving around with Dave checking cows, and Dave saw a calf in a pond. He had to wade in there up to his knees to go get him, and when he finally got him out we noticed he was bleeding on his leg. I said, “I bet it was probably a leech.” We looked around and there on the ground was an undulating blood sucking fiend. It was slimy and slick and gross beyond belief.  Well, of course this presented an excellent opportunity for me to tease Dave that there was probably a legion of leeches inside his boots. He had been in the water for all of 2 minutes after all. They work quick.

                Dave feels about leeches the way I feel about ticks. It was a fun 30 minutes before he got a chance to take his boots off. After his boots and socks were off he walked past me in the kitchen and I looked down at his feet and shrieked. There was nothing there, but he jumped up about a foot and a half. It wasn't the nicest thing I've ever done, but it was funny.  Thankfully, he hasn't gotten back at me by neglecting his spider crushing duties.