Here's the story

Recently, I was packing for vacation. I went on a search for a container so my sons could put a "few" toys in it to keep them occupied on our 10-hour road trip and the hotel. I was looking for something small enough to keep on the floor of the car, but large enough to hold a nice supply of Hot Wheels and superheros.

I knew where to look. The dreaded playroom is a place I enter as little as possible. Occasionally I go through and organize it, but I know that in no time, it will look like the debris laden mine-field my guys prefer.

I ventured down to the basement, home of the playroom, and found the perfect sized container sitting on the table. From a distance, it looked nearly empty, it's lid slightly askew. I was thrilled with my good fortune. A quick find, so the search for the perfect container wouldn't derail my packing plans.

I innocently approached the bin, ready to remove it's contents. As I moved aside the lid, much to my horror, I found a multitude of insects, many of the beetle variety crawling inside the container carefully lined with a variety of foliage, probably plucked from my garden.

I didn't react well. I confess, I yelled, and promised to think of something awful as punishment. You see, I have a strict "no critters" policy, and this was a clear violation. My sons tried to tell me they only picked the really nice bugs, and that they wanted to keep them as pets. I, of course, insisted they remove our new residents. I told my husband about my discovery, expecting to find sympathy and outrage to match mine.

No such luck, You see, he was once a small boy himself. A detail I forgot. He told me I was overreacting. Hmmm . . . Later, when I managed to smile about the incident, I told him that someday I'd start a blog and name it "bugs in the basement", tell this story, and hopefully get some sympathy from other moms of boys.