I love nature … but lately I’ve discovered that this love is conditional. My love of nature is conditional upon nature being where nature should be – outside. Once it breaches the perimeter though, all bets are off.
One night recently, when I was hanging out on the sofa in a semi-comatose state after a busy day at school, I was assaulted by a cricket. Cheeky bugger came at me like a torpedo, and landed right in my lap.
My immediate thought was, I need a Nerf gun.
Perhaps it was because I was frazzled, or perhaps it is because I live in the country where I often hear talk of guns, but it was an unsettling feeling to have that phrase loose in my brain. I didn’t consider myself a violent person.
I am one to test limits though, so – after I’d squealed and danced about trying to escape the clutches of the prickly invader – I said it aloud.
‘I need a Nerf gun!’
My partner looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
‘Self-defence,’ I say. ‘You saw how that cricket just attacked me! I should be able to feel safe in my own house.’
‘It’s a cricket,’ he says. ‘It won’t hurt you.’
‘They bite,’ I retort, reasonably confident that this is true.
He shakes his head. ‘You don’t need a Nerf gun to deal with crickets.’
Rather than dissuading me, it just got me thinking about all the other critters that treat my home as their own. I can tolerate the moths and the giant wasps. And the geckos, while creepy and messy and alien, have never inspired the ‘I need a Nerf gun’ reaction. I have an uneasy alliance with the frog that plasters itself to the outside of the glass door late at night, and while its intimidation antics are unappreciated it has never prompted the thought that I need artillery solution to the problem.
It is the flying, prickly insects that I can’t deal with. Crickets. Cockroaches. Beetles. Big grasshoppers.
Since I haven’t said anything for a couple of minutes while I’ve been considering my insectorial invasion issues, my partner is suspicious.
‘You don’t need a Nerf gun,’ he says again.
‘Look,’ I say, ‘it’s hardly an animal rights issue because – let’s be honest – I’m unlikely to hit the things.’
This is completely true. I’d be flat out hitting the side of a barn with a shovel.
‘Correct,’ he agrees, ‘but the bullets are going to hit something. And as entertaining as it might be to watch you channel Clint Eastwood, I’m not going to listen to you whinge about the inevitable holes in the walls, the broken windows or the busted television.’
I have to concede that he has a point but I’m not quite ready to let this go yet. I don’t actually want to shoot critters. Maybe a warning shot across the bow would do the trick though?
So I Google “nerf guns” and click on the link for a popular discount retailer. 62 products found. Intrigued, I trawl through the 62 products, my disquiet growing with each item I peruse. From a price-point perspective, the Nerf Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster™ is a standout at $129, but it’s the NERF N-Strike Mega Megalodon™ that I find truly disturbing. It has a rotating drum that holds up to twenty Official Nerf Mega darts, which you can fire individually or “unleash all 20 darts rapidly with slam-fire action”. FYI, this thing can fire the darts about twenty-six metres!
I close the internet browser and head for the spare bedroom.
‘What are you doing in there?’ my partner calls.
I return to the lounge, brandishing a fly-swatter.
‘That’s old school,’ he says.
I nod. Now I just need to find a way to affix it to my sofa for ready access.