It seems we have a stowaway. A non-rent-paying tenant. A squatter of the slimiest nature.
Each morning for the last few weeks I’ve found a trail of slug slime on the carpet around the patio doors. A bright, fat, shiny trail of goo seeming to appear out of nowhere, circle whichever toy has been left lying in the area and then disappearing again. Leaving no clue as to where, or from whence the offender has travelled.
I’ve checked the curtains, corners of the room and under and behind furniture, gingerly moving chairs and cupboards away from walls ready to squeal at the mere sight of a our oozing interloper. Crawling on my hands and knees and peering tentatively underneath things. I even got a torch out at one point. Whether it was to help me find or as defence against the slug I’m not really sure, but no sign of the slithering insect is to be found.
It is clearly a master of hide and seek, or disguise, or something.
Each morning the slime trails are fatter and juicier around the odd toy left lying near the doors. Lord only knows what horrific fate this poor hexbug had to endure throughout the night.
And the mess around my daughter’s Cinderella figurine was too disturbing to even photograph (okay, so I may have accidentally deleted that photo) but needless to say, it doesn’t look good for the slug, or Cinderella. Poor girl. I doubt she’ll ever be the same again.
What to do?
How does one dispose of a slug one can not find? How does one protect the innocent toys of the household from its clearly predator-like behaviour?
And would one of you please come and sort it out for me cause I don’t know what I hate most: the slimy, squishy slitherer sneaking around my house during the night or the horrible, high pitched squeal the threat of its presence brings out of me.
Even the picture of the hexbug above makes me shudder.
Honestly, I haven’t felt this much like a stereotype since I hung fluffy pink dice in my silver Fiesta for a week for a dare.