I had never heard of pantry moths until a few months ago, when I started spotting them in our kitchen. Plodia interpunctella, the Indian mealmoth, is a tiny brownish-grey insect that apparently spends the entirety of its life cycle 1) fluttering around erratically in front of your face whenever you open a cabinet, and 2) reproducing at an alarming rate. These motherfuckers have resisted my every attempt to ferret out their feeding/egg-laying source, even after I threw out half our food and stored every newly purchased dry good in sealed containers, and although they succumb by repulsive handfuls to the glue traps I’ve scattered hither and yon, the invasion NEVER ENDS.
They’re annoying, the way they come bumbling out of god-knows-where in the cabinets and launch into their herky-jerky flight patterns while I swat ineffectually at the air and whine like David Spade in Tommy Boy: “Can we get any MORE moths in here??” They’re gross, because their dying revenge is to leave a giant swath of bodily squish and dark wing-dust on whatever surface you’ve swatted them against. They’re MADDENING, since I know there’s a mess of larvae somewhere, probably in something I’m currently eating.
This would be a prime opportunity for Oregon’s unpleasantly large autumn spiders to endear themselves to me by serving as backup in the Pantry Moth Wars, but all the eight-legged members of our household seem focused on honing their startle tactics. I found one on the shower wall. Another came scuttling out from underneath the utensil drawer. I was getting into bed the other night and when I pulled back the sheet and blanket, there it was: huge. Horrible. Lurking there on my side of the bed, under the covers, in flagrant violation of all that is decent and acceptable in this world.
I told you about the snakes, right? JB went a little crazy and ripped out some boards in the sunroom walls, convinced we were housing some sort of reptilian lair. (Or hive. Whatever.) Nothing emerged, but the cats continue to produce a new snake at least every other day. It’s become just another regular chore around here: take out the trash. Clean the bathroom. EVICT THE GODDAMNED SNAKE.
In conclusion … well, I don’t have a conclusion. I have moths, spiders, and snakes. The end.