They have my house surrounded. Some of them have already infiltrated. It looks like this might be the end. But wait – there’s Indiana Jones! With that keen eye and sharp moves and cute little shell, surely I’ll be saved!
In case you didn’t pick up on it, I’m referring not to the Harrison Ford Indiana Jones, but to the turtle Indiana Jones. And the enemy surrounding me are not Nazis but crickets. Scoff all you want, these are no ordinary crickets – they are highly trained ninja crickets that torture you with this steady CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP that gets louder and louder until you get close and then bang, they vanish.
Luckily for me, Indiana is no ordinary turtle either. My husband assumed Indiana was a boy because like he can tell. So Thing Two named it Indiana Jones, cause what else would you name a turtle? Then one day I got home and Thing Two excitedly told me that Indiana Jones had laid an egg. You don’t hear that everyday. So Indiana’s a girl.
But that turtle’s no sissy. Sure she’s smaller than my shoe, but in her mind she’s like Gamera (that was a giant monster turtle in Japan – no seriously look it up). Put anything in front of her mouth and she will open those tiny freakish jaws impossibly wide and chomp. Frankly, she scares me just a little, but fascinates me at the same time. Her favorite meals are dandelions, worms (the massacre is NOT pretty but still cool), and those cherry tomatoes. She likes those so much she once mistook a little tomato shaped egg timer for one. Boy was she frustrated, and boy was I sorry I couldn’t find the camera.
But what does this have to do with the cricket scourge? One day Thing Two caught one of the crickets and dropped it in Indiana’s enclosure because I have twisted little children. Turns out, Indiana thought it was GREAT and ate it. I have new found love for this turtle, much more so than past pets like the guppies that chowed down on their babies or the hermit crab that escaped its shell and I just really don’t want to go into that one.
So this morning, after yelling pointlessly at the crickets to SHUT UP before I blew up the house just to kill them, I had an idea. You see, I’m terrified of crickets because once I was dropped in this giant vat of them. Not really. I just hate all bugs cause they’re creepy.
But Indiana’s not scared. So I sat her down by the refrigerator where the loudest noise was coming from. And for a minute that cricket shut up. Then Indy walked away. So I put her back. And she walked away again, after giving me her usual “Don’t make me bite your finger off” expression.
Still, I have hope. I’ve left her loose in the house in the hope that she will eventually get hungry and live up to her name as Indiana Jones: Adventurer and Nazi cricket eater. Let the Crusade begin.