I banged and banged, but the chirping continued.

Frantically, I called my husband, who came home with three different sprays — wasp spray, ant spray, and roach spray. I sprayed the entire cabinet under the sink, ran out, and closed the door.

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

The cricket was invincible.

My heart raced every time I passed the bathroom. I felt violated. I needed this thing out of my house.

If anyone else has a fear of bugs, you know what I mean. I felt like my home had been invaded.

I went away for Yom Kippur, and prayed that it would be written in the Sefer Hamaves.

Alas, as we walked into the house the next day, I was greeted with the telltale chirping.

I was so on edge by now that I gritted my teeth each time I heard the sound. I couldn’t sleep because of the noise. I dreamed of large furry bugs crawling in my bed .

I googled “lifespan of a cricket. I have a cricket in my house.” Only to find out that apparently having a cricket in your house is considered lucky, but their lifespan is lucky, too. They can live up to a year.

The next few days, I kind of got used to it. It chirped every minute and never seemed to sleep.

Slowly my fear subsided. It wasn’t that bad, I decided. I could live with the noise. I could make peace with the fact that there was an uninvited creature living in my home.

But I promised myself that if the cricket was still there after I went away for Succos, I would get an exterminator.

I walked back into my house on Motzaei Yom Tov to be greeted by the familiar chirping.

Bug Be Gone Pest Control sent someone the next day.

Jim calmly walked into my bathroom, bright-green bottle of poison in his left hand, poised to kill.

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

He opened the drawer under the sink and found… a carbon monoxide detector low on battery merrily beeping away.

Sometimes it takes years of exposure to confront your fears. But Hashem gave me a beeping detector instead.

The house is quiet. The “cricket” has left. All is well.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 828)