On Monday, I kicked off the GRAND Social link party by sharing a text from my daughter Megan about the scorpion family she found in her kitchen. Based on the comments to that post, I probably should have included a mention that Megan does indeed have her home regularly sprayed for the creepy crawly things that reside in the desert. The "Bug Guy" — as the scorpion (and other stuff) sprayer is affectionately called by Megan and her clan — visits so often, in fact, he's virtually family.

Or such was the case with one of Megan's long-standing bug guys. Even I met him a time or two during my desert visits. This particular bug guy was an affable man, quite conversational and clearly concerned with the safety and well-being of my daughter and her family. It saddened Megan so when her beloved Bug Guy moved away.

Alas, as bug guys are a necessity in the desert, Megan found another... one who sprays as frequently as her former favorite. But being the desert and all, certain creepy crawlies do manage to escape the bug man's poison and strut their stuff now and then, both inside and outside the homes of even the most diligent bug destroyers.

Which pleases my grandsons to no end. Brayden, Camden, and Declan are all boy, so spotting a scorpion now and then gets the blood pumping and their curiosity pleasantly piqued.

It's not just scorpions that capture their fancy. No, my grandsons are regularly treated to up-close-and-personal encounters of varied creepy crawly sorts. In fact, two weeks before Sunday's scorpion invasion, Megan sent Jim and me a text featuring the following photo (yes, her texts often feature icky stuff):

 

The critter was found in their swimming pool, she reported, and Camden bravely positioned his hand near what Megan said is a beetle to provide perspective in Mommy's picture for PawDad and Gramma.

Ick!

A few hours later, this post from Megan appeared on social media:

 

Any guess on what the (hilariously brief-clad) boys were playing with? Could be the monster beetle from the pool, could be another critter of an even ickier sort. For creepy crawlies abound in their neighborhood... city... state. Regardless of how often the bug guy comes to the rescue.

Which is one reason why the desert is the perfect place for my creepy-crawly loving grandsons to reside. In the city where I live, there's a bug museum — "the world's largest private insect collection" — on the outer skirts of town, where bug lovers can get their fill of similarly sickening intriguing insects. For a fee. My grandsons? They get all that for free! Right in their own backyard.

Which is one reason why the desert certainly is not the place for me. I will, though, visit my adorable creepy-crawly-craving grandkids in the desert as often as I can.

Provided the bug man sprays their place with an extra-heavy, good-for-Gramma application beforehand!