My neighbor had a garage sale. My kids found and were running around with what I thought was an odd-looking tennis racket, which they bought.

I learned later that it was actually a bug zapper, and on the handle was a sticker sternly warning not to touch the electric netting when it is turned on. Hmmm….sounds serious. I had never seen one of these before.

Now, call me a freak, but it disturbed me when my younger daughter demonstrated how it works: a spider was in our downstairs bathroom, so out came the zapper-paddle-racket thing. From the kitchen I hear, “Got it!” Then, POP! I turn and see a fried/exploded spider that lay in a smoking heap. My kids were all saying, “Whoa!” in amazement. How macabre!

“Oh, you guys, I hate that thing!” My children were suddenly hunters, a bug zapper-toting posse looking for the next bug to fry. It was really grossing me out.

I really hate that thing!

Well, I did. I still do, except when I spot the mosquito that keeps landing on me, harassing me here in my living room.

So now I’m toting this thing around. I know, it should be less complicated, but it’s not. Spiders don’t bother me; flies are disgusting but I’d rather not hear them sizzle before their guts pop; crane flies are fun chasing and good eating for our mighty hunter cat — don’t want to steal her fun. Mosquitoes, however, get no compassion from me. No, this thing is frying as soon as I can find it.

Does that make me a hypocrite?

© Alexa Lopez, 2008