It’s just another day on the suburban frontier: wake up, make tea, empty the dishwasher, kill a spriget.

A spriget is my family’s name for a cave cricket, the spidery, humpbacked creature that gives me the creeps every time I spot one.

Truth to tell, when I do see one, I generally call for help. But when help is unavailable I throw a book at it. Such was the case this morning when I spotted one in the kitchen (cheeky devil, they usually stay in the basement).

What book should I sacrifice? I found a whole foods cookbook I don’t think I’ve ever used, a thick paperback.

It took three tries but the spriget is no more. Unfortunately, I split the book’s ancient binding. Small price to pay for peace of mind.

(One of these books would have done the trick, but I would never sacrifice a precious ancient volume.)