It was a beetle

I thought it was a roach, and I sprayed cleaner at it. Oh no. I’m so sorry, you poor, sweet summer child.
I bet it was in my tomatoes that I just washed.
(If bugs don’t want my food, it probably isn’t safe to eat anyway, right? Right?!)

I talked with someone before about how I feel guilty killing insects sometimes. It’s crossed my mind that God likely views larvae as precious and beautiful children. And my friend wrote it off. “They’re just plagues.”
I don’t believe that. Maybe it’s not something he’s convicted with, but it was put in my heart to care that I killed them. I don’t want them in my house, and some of them, I’ll still kill. Roaches, flies, beetle larvae, ants… I’m sorry but not enough to not work like mad to make sure they’re gone from my living space.

I know I talk about bugs a lot. Sometimes I think I should have been an entomologist.
(*fly buzzes by my ear* I don’t care what you have to say! ) …maybe not.