My kids have the terrible habit of leaving the door open when they are chatting with friends on the porch. Bugs seem to take advantage of this. They fly right in and make themselves at home.
One such bug made its way into my daughter's room. She completely freaked. I found her jumping on her bed, attempting to swat the thing with her Pixie magazine.
"Hey, chill," I said. "It's just a bug."
"Can you kill it?"
"No. It's up too high."
That didn't stop my daughter. She hurled her magazine at the hapless creature, knocking it to the ground. Then she jumped off her bed, picked up the magazine, and proceeded to beat the living daylights out of it.
"You're murdering it," I said.
She didn't care. She beat it until it stopped moving. Then she scraped it up with a crochet needle and magazine and deposited it in the garbage.
"There," she said, all pleased with herself.
"Let me see that magazine," I said.
I looked at the back cover. Bug guts were smeared all over Justin Bieber's face.
I shrugged my shoulders. Mission accomplished.