Jim-jiminy, Jim-jiminy, Jim-Jim, Jirreee

My friend Holly and I were put on this earth as roommates for a reason. Well, technically, we’re former roommates, but who’s counting? The reason we were such a good pair was because I was deathly afraid of spiders (remember this?) and she was frightened by jumping bugs. You know…crickets, grasshoppers and the like. Although my heart goes into my throat every time I’m facing down a spider, I don’t really mind the hopping things. I figure…they can’t kill me, so let them be. She, on the other hand, didn’t mind killing the eight-legged creatures that gave me terrors. Are you seeing what I mean? This was a partnership, people! Forget crimes…we fought the creepy crawly underworld and won quite a few skirmishes.

I’ve thought of our former partnership many a time since I moved out to Colorado because out here the crickets abound. I’m glad I’m here to face the crickets, whilst she wages war against the black widows. It just seemed destined. However, last night everything changed.

I came from the bathroom after brushing my teeth and was about to crawl into bed when I heard the dulcet tones of a cricket in my room. How could I be sure that the little guy was in my room? Well…it was loud. Very loud. Because of that, I came into the dark room trying to listen closely to triangulate his position. I narrowed it down to a corner of my room and moved things around a bit to draw him out of his wee little hiding place. It was at this point that he went radio silent.

Thinking to outsmart him, I turned out all the lights again and stood in the doorway of my bedroom, barely daring to breathe. Nothing. Five more minutes and…nothing. No sound. Oh well, right? I’d done my due dilligence and a little part of me was kind of concerned that he’d jump onto my face while I slept, but I was reasonably confident that I’d be fine and nothing bad would happen as a result of me letting him go free. As I laid my head down to sleep, the cricket was the farthest thing from my mind and I drifted into slumberland only to be JARRED awake by the squeaky sounds of the cricket.

Remembering my trick of hunting him down that silenced him so well the last time, I made a lot of noise in the same vicinity until…ha! My plan worked. Satisfied that I had foiled the cricket once more, I went back to sleep. Not long after, I was again ripped out of a sound slumber only to hear him making really loud chirping sounds. Seriously? What’s was he doing? The cricket equivalent of smoke signals? Sheesh.

At this point, I was thoroughly annoyed. I think we all know by now that I value sleep above many things and I was not going to let this cricket win the battle of the airwaves. I threw my blankets off, bounded to the light switch with a fury rarely seen and turned and glared around the room (what? my eyes were getting adjusted to the light). I saw nary a movement. I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and forcefully yanked out items that I was storing under my bed. I moved everything out of the corner I thought he was in. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Exhaustion took over and I resigned myself to giving free reign to the little critter. I just couldn’t look anymore. 

I woke up a few more times because of the cricket and finally used a pillow to keep the noise out long enough to get a little rest. When I woke up (for real), I looked like a harried and disheveled shadow of myself. All day long I fought to stay awake at my desk (I was really busy, which helped a lot).

You can imagine that I entered the nocturnal hours with a fierce determination to win the next battle with the cricket. Most of the evening hours passed with no sound of the cricket from my room. But 10:00 PM rolled around and the chirping commenced. Determined to not leave any proverbial stone unturned, I turned my room into a true disaster area. I pulled EVERYTHING out from under my bed. I moved a bookcase and a small wooden chest. I used a flashlight to sweep under the bed.

Now it’s 10:46. During  my “creative rennovations” to my bedroom, the cricket, naturally, again fell silent. I’ve turned off the lights and am a good distance away, waiting for the telltale sounds of the cricket. This time, I will not be denied. I will have a cricket carcass trophy by the end of this night! My game face is on. My shoe is sure. Now I can only wait.


5 thoughts on “Jim-jiminy, Jim-jiminy, Jim-Jim, Jirreee

  1. Leslie says:

    OOOHHH!! In Indiana we had Sprickets. Big ole’ spiders that jump. What would you do then?!?!?

    they were terrible, but nothing compared to the cicadas. Look those up if you know nothing about them…

    • amycoadventures says:

      Oh. no. I will not ever live in Indiana (just watch, the Lord will send me there as a missionary or something…). I think I’ll refrain from looking up cicadas, too…we all know I have a too active imagination when it comes to that type of thing. I’d probably feel like I was dying from a cicada bite or something.

  2. Dad says:


    Once again…you got the 50 year old man you call “daddy” to laugh out loud! I guess it was the way you “triangulated” and he went to “radio silence”! That really got to my funny bone!

    Can’t wait to read the sequel to this story. I can actually see you in my mind’s eye “throwing off the covers” and all that determination stuff! It’s always taken you a while to get wound up, but once you are…look out little cricket!

    By the way…I’d love it if God sent you to Indiana. You probably would see us more frequently than those sprickets! 🙂


  3. mom says:

    I must confess, I didn’t really tie in the title you gave this blog with the content until the SECOND time I read it…..
    Great job!
    Love, mom

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