The Cricketbuster

Moose came home from the pet store a few days ago with 80 pounds of dog food and 2 dozen crickets. The usual order. Only, this time, there is something wrong. Oh, the dog food is fine.

It's the crickets. One of them makes noise.

To those of you only familiar with the wild variety of crickets, you must be holding out your palms and yelling, "Duh, Lady!" at your monitor. But those of us who have tiny mouths to feed--mouths that belong to insectivores or possibly omnivores who enjoy the occasional insect--understand that this is an anomaly. Bulk pet store crickets are generally silent. I could not have been more surprised unless maybe the cricket played classical music like Chester. (The reference? Come on...you know it!) A musical cricket would certainly be more surprising.

But it would also be appreciated.

The thing going on in Eduardo's terrarium was not appreciated. If the cricket was operating in 4/4 time...then what he was "singing" is a steady stream of fortissimo eighth notes!

Which I have been counting: one and two and three and four and one and two and...

Why not wait for the frog to handle it? I'll tell you why. He is stuffed. Completely gorged himself two days ago and won't eat another bite for a couple of days. I know this because earlier today I watched a cricket crawl over his face. It stepped on Eduardo's eye and everything! The froggy did not even flinch. And who is to say that he would pick the noisemaker next?

I could also try waiting for a bigger cricket to come and eat the noisy one. It happens. But there is a chance that the offender is the largest one in the tank. And that is not a risk I am willing to take.

Determined to finally end this, I just went up the stairs with the Dustbuster. After several minutes of trying to determine exactly which cricket was causing the ruckus I took off the lid and...

guess what...

He had a plan!!! The little bugger was using me to escape! And my attempt to find peace turned into Crazy Cricket Rodeo. I was chasing the offender and finally sucked it up but in the meantime...three more crickets escaped. My priority quickly shifted to containment and I fumbled to get the lid on tight. Then I ran around trying to catch the other crickets but only managed to get two of them.

After disposing of them outside (in a snowbank) I came back in the house to tell you all about it. Only...the thing is...that last cricket that got away? He makes noise too. But he is less John Philip Sousa and much more Branford Marsalis.

How the hell am I supposed to count that?!