The Sad Story of an Earwig

So apparently I had an earwig in the house. This sometimes happens when I leave the loving room light on; unlike silverfish, they’re attracted to light. That, and the fact that my grounds were recently weeded, where they usually live, probably prompted this one to head indoors.

Earwigs are nocturnal, and like to wander around moist, dark, and warm environments to hunt for food; unlike silverfish, they eat other insects. Unfortunately, my house lacks both.

Except, last night, I had just made my nightcap tea and gone up for the evening, leaving behind a still warm electric kettle with moist residue near the kitchen window.

The problems of entering a tall, metal electric kettle with a shape not unlike that of the family of carnivorous pitcher plants should be obvious.

The fact that the bottom of the tea kettle was likely still at 100°F is another problem.

When I woke up in the morning to make tea for the ferry, I found a very dead, likely roasted, earwig in the kettle.

Fortunately electric kettles are self-disinfecting. Metal electric kettles probably moreso. Tonight I’ll clean it out with detergent and boil water in it several more times.

Thus this morning I did not make my tea. Sigh.

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4 thoughts on “The Sad Story of an Earwig

  1. Heh…reminds me of the time in college where there was a party including a hot tub. Lots of beer. Alas, I left the top off of the hot tub overnight.

    Snails, by the way, love beer. And can’t swim.

  2. One morning, I was about fourteen, I spied an earwig in my hairbrush. As I was starting to brush my hair. I made a tremendous fuss, of course. My mother was not impressed, and pooh-poohed the whole thing. It was a hell of a way to start a day, though, and I stand by my fuss.

  3. I think the fuss was definitely warranted. Bug bits are hard to get out of hair. *shudder*

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