On the Top Ten of my Hit Parade of Worries is bedbugs. It started when friends contracted bedbugs in their home and told me they had to lie in bed at night to be hosts, which drew out the critters, so the Hazmat folks could come in their Hazmat suits and eradicate them. The process took weeks of shrink-wrapping books and going through everything else in the house, as well as paying more than $1,000.
For a long time I’ve been ducking this most worrisome topic for my Worrywart blog, because my thoughts on bedbug risk and avoidance are way TMI, especially with all the bedbug hype in the media. What terrifies me is that anywhere you sit–movies, trains, planes, restaurants, shops, people’s homes–one of these guys could hitch a ride in your pocket and head with you through your very own front door to settle in and start a family.
A more accurate title for this post would have been “Bedbug Avoidance Invention,” but I opted for the more aesthetically pleasing “Prevention Invention,” the same way when selecting a couch I amazed myself by choosing the one that looked better rather than the most comfortable one, which I have regretted
The reason I am broadcasting my idea here is that I don’t have time to manufacture the product myself. I’m hoping someone else will do so and I can simply buy it.
Which brings me to my invention: Everywhere I go, I wish I had something to cover my seat. I picture my product something like a Kleenex packet, but a bit bigger. Inside would be large, super-thin, disposable, biodegradable sheets that I could withdraw, one at a time, the same way I do a Kleenex when I want to blow my nose. When outside of my home, I could use the sheet to cover my seat and then throw it away until I’m ready to park myself somewhere else. I hope you make a big fortune when you find a way to manufacture this. Sleep tight.
Please send me some reassuring
thoughts (for when I’m snoring)
about insects that might be boring
holes in my ankles.
LOTS ABOUT MARRIAGE AND RELATIONSHIPS IN MY NEW MEMOIR . . .
“A first-rate personal essayist, Susan Orlins delivers the goods time and again. Underneath her self-mocking voice, her abundant humor, her brio, there is the serious candor of a moralist who worries the problems that won’t go away.”
–PHILLIP LOPATE, author and editor of The Art of the Personal Essay