I was summoned at 6:30 a.m. to kill a mysterious bug upstairs. When I got up there it was gone, but the girls, both sitting on top of their little table, soon saw it moving towards the rug. A nice hairy centipede. Or maybe milipede. I empty out the trash can by turning it upside down, littering the contents onto the floor and put it over the ugly, helpless bug. I went down stairs, with baby in arms and grabbed the vacuum. There is nothing quite like the feeling of defending the world against many-legged creatures with a vacuum at the first light of dawn. Or even before the first light.
(By the way, if you're wondering if the household bug killing naturally falls to me I'll let you know that it does not. Ben is teaching early morning Seminary though-kind of like a daily sunday school for high schoolers- and so he was not at home. Alas, the task was left to me.)