You know how it's a terrible-no-good idea to ask Dr. Google for an explanation about anything involving more than six legs? THAT.
Don't Google "centipede invasion." Doing so will lead to a lifetime of trauma.
It took me a few minutes to recognize the HUGE mistake that I had made when I Googled that unfortunate phrase earlier today. I bailed once I realized I was about to throw up all over my computer, but now I'm left with a problem. I STILL NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.
Ahem.
Let me just set the scene for y'all. Alexis and I spent the day running around. We managed to get home about half an hour before the husband, and we spent that entire half hour in our backyard. So ... the house was empty all day. All of the dogs and cats were in the basement, leaving the upstairs vacant. When Mr. Husband pulled into the driveway, Alexis and I hurriedly started making dinner as he went upstairs to change clothes.
That's when I heard it. The strange sound.
He was vacuuming upstairs.
OK, so that in and of itself isn't really that odd. The fact that he kept vacuuming and kept vacuuming and kept vacuuming was, though. I could hear him working his way across the entire upstairs of the house. WHO DOES THAT? Who vacuums the entire upstairs of a house right after getting home from work?
A man who kept finding centipedes creeping and crawling all over the floor, that's who.
I didn't see the worst of it (THANK GOODNESS), but rumor has it there were hundreds of centipedes all over the upstairs of our house. But it didn't stop there! Oh, no! The centipedes were also on the first floor of our house AND IN THE BASEMENT. All three floors of our house. Centipedes. Everywhere.
I'm a nice lady, so I'm not going to post a photo of the kind of centipedes we're talking about here. I'll just tell you that they are the ones that you find under rocks and such outside. They are common garden centipedes which DON'T GO IN HOUSES. Or so Google says. Obviously, Google is a liar-liar-pants-on-fire because I had to stop typing this paragraph so that I could send another one to its death.
You guys, the husband vacuumed every single square inch of this house and yet I have managed to find 16 more of the little douchewad bugs since. Even crazier, six were in the master bathroom, one was in the hallway upstairs, one was in Alexis' room, two were in the dining room, three were in the family room, two were in the kitchen, and one was near the basement door. That means the freakin' centipedes are spread out over a span of well over 4000 square feet.
WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY COMING FROM?
I want very badly to blame the dogs for this Centipede Invasion. Both of the pups are fluffy foofernutters who stick their noses where they don't belong (ESPECIALLY the fluffier of the foofernutters). One of them had to be a carrier, right? RIGHT? PLEASE TELL ME I'M RIGHT.
The only problem with my theory is that I gave both of the foofernutters baths and didn't see any evidence that either of them had ever had a centipede on them. Also, there is the matter of the quantitiy of creepy crawlies we're talking about. I'm not sure that both dogs together could have carried in that many centipedes without me noticing.
So, uh, internet? If you could make up a reasonably plausible explanation, I sure would appreciate it. Make sure it has a happy ending, though. I can't deal with any suggestions that I might still be dealing with the Centipede Invasion tomorrow.
(Please convince me it's the foofernutter's fault. PLEASE.)