There is a cricket living in our house. I suspect he is under the fridge, as that is the center of the house (we live in a tri-level, with the kitchen being the middle floor) and gives him the best angles and acoustics to have his music stylings reach every square inch of the home at an ear-splitting level.
He's done this at around 4AM the last two nights in a row now. You know it's a loud cricket because it wakes The Mister and I both out of a sound sleep. Whereupon we have continued our on-going discussion regarding our individual stances on crickets. We differ greatly.
Quite bluntly, The Mister sees crickets as just any other bug, and thus demands swift death for our tiny serenader.
I... well I wish he would stop chirping, but I kinda think crickets have luck in them. Killing a cricket brings you bad luck. And guys. GUYS. I have killed enough crickets to last a dozen life-times (I promise I will tell that college story sooner rather than later), and thus I'd like to store up a little good luck by granting any remaining crickets in my life a death-row pardon.
Mulan's G-ma knew what was up.
Of course, our personal Cricket in Times Square (omigosh I loved that book as a kid) is granted a pardon by way of 4AM being too early in the morning for the Mister to want to move the fridge and 'HULK-SMASH' a poor, defenseless bug with a shoe. Bubba can't reach under there either, or you know he'd have plucked every leg off that poor thing already.
If only our Chester was as skilled as this Chester.
In any case, Good luck, Chester. I hope you find a lady-cricket soon and stop dropping the base at the butt-crack of the morning.
What is your stance on Crickets?
Do you have any silly superstitions or lucky things in your life?
Tell me in the comments!