Day 53: Zapped: A Bug's Life

I know it's hard to believe, but the town police and fire departments paid us another visit last night. What we really needed were the paramedics.

I was sound asleep at 12:30 or so when L woke me up yelling that there was a bad smell downstairs and D was worried that something was burning. The smell was contained to one corner of the first floor, but it was powerful and smelled electrical in nature. Alarm man didn't order us out of the house (the small amount of smoke apparently didn't irk him all that much), but the fire department did.

You see, having survived one serious house fire already, we weren't taking any chances. It seemed possible that something was burning inside the walls. D decided to call 911, who patched him through to our small town volunteer fire department, and then the drama quickly unfolded. Not, however, before I sped back upstairs and changed out of my nasty pajamas into jeans and a sweatshirt. I may have even brushed my teeth. I didn't go so far as to put on lipstick -- I wasn't going on a date for pete's sake -- but I was damned if our town's finest were going to catch me off guard yet again. They've got too much on me already.

A few minutes later the first policeman arrived and set up a perimeter for the two or three fire trucks that pulled up shortly thereafter. Several firefighters, in full regalia, entered the premises and quickly determined the source of the smell and the smoke. A bug, some sort of large mosquito (in our defense, it really was big), had fried to death in a halogen fixture in D's library! Incinerated. Cremated. Burned to a crisp. DOA.

The firemen assured us that this was not their first experience with burned bugs and that it wouldn't be their last. They insisted we had done the right thing by calling them (I'm telling you, it smelled like burning wires and it lingered!). They couldn't have been more gracious or understanding. I'm sure they had a few choice words for us after they left.

Seriously, could I have made this up?

I believe in supporting the town's emergency services: I remember my mom telling me that it was important to do that and to vote for the school budget. I've already written the fire department a check this year, but after our two false alarms in the last week and a half, I think I'll be writing another. I don't want them to tell us to bug off the next time we call.

RIP, poor bugger.