Top 10 Reasons Why I Hate Cicadas

It is cicada season here in New Jersey.  Something called the 17-year brood is upon us.  Some are excited over this new surge.  They call them “fascinating creatures,” and pick them up in their bare hands, examining them like scientists.  These are the good moms, teaching their kids about nature.  Others, like me, are cowering in fear inside my house, despite the beautiful spring weather.  We crack open our front doors and do an anxious sweep with our eyes, making sure we can quick-walk to our cars without a cicada encounter.

If you hadn’t guessed, I hate cicadas.  Really hate them.  A lot.  For many reasons.  But I’ll list out a few, in case you were curious.

Top 10 Reasons Why I HATE Cicadas

1. They’re creepy, crawly bugs.  Period.  I rank them up in my top 3 most-hated bugs, right along with cockroaches and cave crickets.

2. You know they’re creepy when even the bible mentions them as proof of God’s wrath.

3. They rise from the ground in the night like zombies.

4. They’re litterbugs, leaving their empty carcasses all over the place.

5. They have a Facebook presence. I have threatened to de-friend anyone who continues to post pictures of these nasty little critters on my Facebook feed.

6. They’re really ugly. So maybe that’s not the most politically correct thing to say, but these things have beady little red eyes, black skeletal wings, and nasty shells and bodies.  Oh, and my son says they have green gooey blood. He figured that out when he stepped on one by accident. Blech!

7. The noise, ohmigod, the NOISE!!  Truly deafening sound like a hundred police car sirens stuck mid-doppler pass on a single, annoying, high-pitched note.

8. The numbers. It’s the 17-year brood, which apparently means there are thousands upon thousands here for the next 6 weeks.

9. They stick.  To everything.  To car tires, to siding, to lamp posts, to cement, everything. Just when you think it’s safe to walk down the sidewalk to your car, you see that the undersides of all of the leaves are coated with their sticky little bodies and shells.

10. The cost. I hate them so much, I’m paying my kids a quarter for every shell or bug they remove from our walkway, driveway, steps and patio.  I’m not a killer.  If they stay away from my house and the places we pass through, I’d leave them alone.  But perch on my porch, and I will pay to have you squished. Today’s cicada total so far is $5.75. I’ll be in the poor house by the end of the infestation…which is fine by me, so long as it’s a cicada-free poor house!