At the wedding of my brother-in-law two weekends ago, I was slightly taken aback by how many times well-wishing toasters joked about his new wife’s fear and loathing of bugs. Ever since she had taken up residence with my husband’s brother, Gwenn has not been forced to call her dad or friends for help whenever a bug popped up in her apartment. (For the record, this is not uncommon in even the tidiest and cleanest of New Yorker’s apartments.) The newest member of my extended family could rely on her hubby to take care of these creepy little problems for her.