So I can finally talk about this without shuddering… much.

There I was, innocently minding my own business, reading “Freakonomics” in the bathroom, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something run by. Curie and Sagan were both napping, so I was immediately alarmed. I thought maybe it was a mouse. (This should give you an idea of the size of the thing.)

It was not a mouse. It was a centipede. It dashed into the laundry nook.

“Aahh!” I said and looked around for help. No help was in sight.

I believe in being prepared. I also believe in keeping an eye on my enemy. This presented a dilemma. I had to go find weapons without taking my eye off the creature. So I would run out of the bathroom, look around for something, anything -- where is a bazooka when I need one? -- and then race back in to see if he was still there. I did this several times.

Finally, armed with a long piece of, well, bamboo (to poke with, of course), a bottle of bathroom cleaner, and a big cup, I advanced on the laundry nook. First I took a little breather on the edge of the tub, just to get my strength up.

I poked and banged with the bamboo stick, the centipede peeked out, and I sprayed it vigorously. The first try wasn’t effective enough, and it scurried back out of reach. So I poked some more and said some baddish words and it again came out, and I was able to finish the job. I sprayed and sprayed and then swooped the cup over the carcass. I left the cup there for a while to make sure he wasn’t just faking. Then, with much shuddering, I disposed of the body.