I was the victim of a home invasion recently. While Brownie and I were fast asleep, they sneaked in with stealthy determination, in great numbers.

We woke up happy, wagging our tails. Everything seemed normal.

We hobbled into the kitchen and noticed something awry, out of the corners of our eyes.

The counter seemed to be moving.

An army of ants had discovered a tiny drop of spilled coffee. Now, you may know about me and my coffee. It is strong. It is Cuban. It gets you going with a fervor that lasts all day.

I could only imagine what an invading army of ants, hopped up on Cuban coffee, could accomplish. Ants are hardy little creatures, capable of lifting many times their negligible weight.

I sprang into action and grabbed the closest killer at hand: A bottle of Windex. I strafed the spray across the counter and stopped them in their tiny tracks.

I rarely buy insecticide. And I certainly would balk at spraying such stuff on my kitchen counters. So, when I encounter any small, crawling creature, I spray them with the nearest thing I can grab � Windex, bathroom bubbles (that�s sort of fun), bleach, even hairspray. Doesn�t matter what it is; they�re dead.

About the only commercial pest killer I buy is hornet spray � the kind that shoots a 30-foot stream. Thirty feet is about as close as I want to get to a hornet. Call me cruel if you wish, but I love to watch them writhe in death throes, their mean little faces covered in white foam. Soon enough � voila! � they�re dead.

I have, however, learned not to pick up a dead hornet for disposal until long after it has passed this mortal coil. Even then, I use a thick paper towel. I have, indeed, been stung through a wispy paper Kleenex.

It seems that every spring and summer, a different pest is more prevalent than others. I well recall the Summer of the Earwig. Oh my heavens, but those earwigs are nasty-looking little things. I don�t know if they are particularly harmful, and I don�t desire to find out. I just plain don�t like the looks of them, and want them gone, gone, gone.

One spring, a flock of smallish, pale green grasshoppers decided to take up residence in my bathroom. I�m sure they weren�t particularly harmful, but that didn�t mean I wanted them sharing my shower.

Not long ago, there was an invasion of huge hornets. Every darn time I closed my eyes for a nap, or sat down to read, I�d hear their loud, menacing drone. I would cringe, and then creep stealthily toward my trusty can of hornet spray. Then, crouching low, I�d hunt them down. (I don�t know if they�re attracted to movement; they seem devious and intelligent, in a way.)

I�m afraid it�s beginning to sound to you as if I live in some sort of squalor. I do not. I just blame it on living in the country. Things can crawl or fly inside. And then, they must be killed.

Please don�t write to tell me how helpful and/or harmless such things can be. I do not want to hear it. I do not care. I will not change my rather sadistic ways.

Speaking of hornet spray, I have discovered an excellent use for it that may surprise you. The same summer the giant hornets invaded, I had a scary weirdo living nearby. He seemed to have set his sights on me, creeping around the yard at odd hours. I�d sit in my chair by the open window in the dark of night and have that eerie feeling � you know what I mean � that I was being watched. It got so I was afraid to get in bed and close my eyes.

And then, brilliance struck. I took to sleeping with the big can of hornet spray beside the bed. I made sure before I fell asleep that the nozzle was pointed in the right direction. If the creepy weirdo crept in, I was fully prepared � indeed, relishing the thought � of covering his face with the poison foam.

I do not own a firearm, although I�ve heard they come in pink now, which tempts me. But no. I am content to know my lethal weapon of choice � hornet spray � is always close at hand. One of the tenets of my life is this: If you can�t be armed, be disarming. 

To order Margo Oxendine�s A Party of One, email [email protected], or call 540-468-2147 Monday-Thursday from 9-5.