The other morning, I was making my infamous cup of coffee, still somewhat puffy eyed, and I was surprised to see a grasshopper in the sill of the kitchen window. It's an early October morning, so I'm thinking he must have hopped on one of us yesterday to get inside out of the cold. I'm not sure really, but even though it's a seemingly harmless little critter, the immediate sight of it somewhat shocked me. I am not afraid of bugs and I'm the house hero when it comes to "killing the infiltrating hornet" or "smashing the trespassing spider" or whatever for my wife ... who for all accounts and purposes is terrified of insects.

For the most part, I try to gather up the little bugs and bring them outdoors where they are set free to wreak havoc in someone else's household. That particular morning, I realize that the life of this grasshopper is in dire jeopardy. I remember considering trying to scoop it up with my hand and get it outside, but I was still half awake and if I missed this guy was going to be jumping all over the place and I was going to make a ruckus in a quiet, peaceful household that would surely wake the other occupants. My wife, daughter, and dog were all sleeping soundly and that's the way I wanted to keep it. On the other hand, if this critter wandered off ... or I simply forgot about him, his fate was certainly doomed. You see ... there is an assassin among us. She is silent and does not scream or announce her death swat. She is covert with deadly precision. And if she sees this insect inside the walls of her home, she will smash this bug without provocation and then I will be the one that has to remove the compromised body.

My wife is a gentle, loving, and nurturing woman. She is a wonderful mother and a loving wife. She is tender, beautiful, and passive. Except there is a dark side to my wife. She is a super hero to some ... to others, an evil villain. My wife has an alternate lifestyle. She has been trained in the ancient arts of the Ninja hundreds of ways to assassinate insects without cause, without provocation, without an ounce of consideration, and without a thought. It must have taken years of training and conditioning for this woman to be as effective as she is. She can assassinate a bug coming near her ... not even really going in her direction ... just near her and not even really notice that she just killed it.

One day ... not too long ago, my daughter, my wife, and I were in the back yard playing with our daughter's toy golf set and I was teaching her the all important lessons of pars and teeing off and which club to use. My wife stood in the background and watched admirably as I fought to maintain the focus of the five-year-old with such stimulating techniques. Suddenly, a small dragonfly flew near my wife. I'm not talking about the three to four inch variety of dragonfly that makes us all a bit nervous when it invades our space, I'm talking small. Like maybe just over an inch ... maybe an inch and a half. It wasn't flying at her. It was flying by her. But it made a mistake. It flew into the "Non-Fly Zone of The Ninja Bug Assassin." Also known as NFZNBA. Without flinching, her arm extended out, swatted the crap out of the poor unsuspecting dragonfly... who for all we know was on his way home with a toy for his or her tots as he promised he would be ... but as it would have it ... not this day ... not ever. He fell to the ground immediately dazed and confused. His wings were undoubtedly broken. He would never fly again. But that didn't matter because the assassin wasn't finished yet. The bug was still alive. Without consideration of this bug or his loved ones, my wife, the Ninja Bug Assassin, lifted a foot and stomped on the poor bug. I would love to say he was dead instantly and felt no pain. However, surprised as I was and my facial expression was surely conveying the fact that I did not approve of the unnecessary slaughter I had just been witness to, I watched the long tail section of this bug curl and uncurl as it writhed in painful convulsions which led me to take my larger booted foot and disintegrate the insect to put us both out of our current miseries.

I looked at my wife.

"What?" she asked. "It was coming at me."

"No it wasn't," I said shaking my head and reciting a prayer for the deceased.

"It might have," she tried to convince me.

The most horrific aspect of the whole assassination was the child seeing the entire ordeal. A future Ninja Bug Assassin already in training.

I try to show my daughter which bugs you can pick up and which ones you can't. Sometimes, I have learned new things about bugs myself. Like ladybugs can actually bite you. Don't tell me otherwise because one of them little creeps did so once and I winced and said "OW!" to the utter shock and horror of my daughter. Probably another reason why she will become a skilled assassin like her mother.

The Ninja Bug Assassin style of killing does not exhibit the most choreographic executions to the target. It's not always the most graceful or pretty sights to see. It can be downright awkward. It can involve hopping around on one leg, while screaming ... or running around in circles ducking and rising repeatedly like a chicken ... or swaying to and fro with both arms flailing in the air as if trying not to drown ... except not be anywhere near a body of water. Even a variety of these techniques can and will be used in many of the assassinations. The results are always the same. No matter what the poor bug does to escape the Ninja Bug Assassin, it winds up dead. It cannot escape from the lethal clutches of the NBA.

After the assassination, my wife returns to her lifestyle as if nothing happened without conscience. Almost as if humming a lullaby to herself it would seem. The body of the unsuspecting target will be dead or dying at her feet, a mere afterthought before she decides what to make for dinner ... or perhaps what she'll wear to work tomorrow. Something of that nature.

That morning, I'm looking at the grasshopper and trying to tell it to stay still. I know that I am going to forget to remove it when I'm more awake and think I can instill the speed needed to catch it and release it. If I did it then, I would certainly miss and be running and crashing and stomping all over the house to try to catch it before ... it's too late. She will awaken, come out to see what the ruckus is all about ... the grasshopper will hop near her direction, and without a moment's notice, even in her foggy state of awakening emergence, she will strike with deadly results and the carcass of the grasshopper will be squished against the fibers of the carpet and left for the "removal system" AKA ... me to clean up the mess.

A happy ending that day, however, I'm glad to announce to all you bug lovers out there. I remembered. Actually, okay ... I forgot at first and I was in the office on the computer and heard my wife in the kitchen starting her cup of coffee and a bright light of memory flashed across the warning screen of my brain. Oh my God, the grasshopper! I must save its life! I leapt up and without trying to raise too much suspicion went into the kitchen as if to kiss my wife good morning. But the skills of the Ninja Bug Assassin go far beyond the actual executions to the unsuspecting targets. She was dubious of my intent and anyone could tell her sonar, radar, and any other ar was on high alert.

"I have to get rid of a bug," I confessed immediately.

Ninja Bug Assassin Mode went into automatic effect. She walked across the kitchen like Keanu Reeves in another Matrix film. Slow motion, yet ready, willing, and able to strike the "blow of death" at any second.

"Where is it," she challenged in a demonic voice not her own.

"I'll take care of it," I promised. Her eyes scoped the entire perimeter of the kitchen and I knew then, this grasshopper's seconds are limited.

"Please, Honey," I pleaded for the innocent bug's life. "I'll take care of it. Get me a net from Jadyn's bedroom." She did without complaint. I had to be on high alert.

After handing me the net, she retreated back to the safety of the dining room where she watched in silence and almost what I think might have been a slight degree of melancholy that she was not going to have the opportunity to kill. I scooped up the grasshopper and ran him outside before anything else could happen to him. He must have felt the tension. It was so thick inside, you could have cut it with a knife.

I tipped the net upside down and as he fell to the grass I could have sworn I heard him say ... "Bless you, dear sir." I stuck a finger in my ear and wriggled it all around and went back inside. But first I said, "You're welcome, friend. Don't ever come back inside this house."