I can’t go into the details (although I hope to be able to tell you the whole story someday). It has to do with my brother and his job. Basically, he ended up sleeping with bed bugs, and now he’s looking forward to a visit from the exterminator.
That story prompted my dad to dig out this amusing little ditty that he wrote in 1965.
Ode to a Bedbug
Dear little bug that swims within a death-entangling flood,
In my abode you found no sin in feasting on my blood,
And now you rest forever, you who rested in my bed;
You once your satisfaction found, and now, I mine: you’re dead.