In late December 2018, Christopher Ingraham, then a data reporter for The Washington Post, ordered 250 live crickets online to feed his family's new bearded dragon. When the box arrived he opened it at the wrong moment, in the wrong room, and the crickets escaped into the family home in rural Minnesota. He told the whole thing on Twitter, one short post at a time, and the thread was shared widely around the holidays.
The story works because each update makes things a little worse. A practical errand turns into an evening of hunting insects through a bathroom, a kitchen, a closet, a playroom and finally the bedroom. Below you can follow his posts in order, then the replies from people who read them, and then some practical advice for anyone about to order feeder insects for a reptile.
Who Christopher Ingraham is, and why Red Lake Falls matters
Ingraham was already known to many Minnesotans before the crickets. In August 2015 he wrote a Washington Post piece about a US Department of Agriculture index of "natural amenities" such as climate, landscape and water, and he described the county at the bottom of the list, Red Lake County in north-western Minnesota, as the worst place to live in America. Residents pushed back, he visited, and he liked the place so much that in 2016 he and his family moved there. His thread signs off from Red Lake Falls, the county seat.
That background explains some of the details in the story: a family house with kids, cats and dogs, a shed outside, deep snow and temperatures below zero Fahrenheit. It also explains why so many people were following him. The man who once called the county the worst place in the country had become one of its best-known residents, and he was now losing a war against insects in its winter.
The cricket thread, post by post
The trouble starts with an ordinary cardboard shipping box like this one. Live feeder insects are usually sent in ventilated boxes with egg-crate cardboard inside, which gives the crickets places to hide during the journey.
His opening post sets up the joke. It was his first bulk order, and he expected the crickets to come in a bag or some container that would make it easy to move them. They did not.
He cut the tape, opened the lid and found crickets loose all through the box. It was the middle of a workday, so he closed it again with tape and decided to sort it out later.
He moved the box to the upstairs bathroom, reasoning that it was the one room the children, the cats and the dogs could not get into. In hindsight, a warm and slightly humid bathroom is exactly the kind of place crickets enjoy.
Around twenty minutes later his wife called out from the kitchen, asking where all the crickets were coming from. He admits, with some guilt, that he had not fully briefed her on his cricket-buying plans.
This close-up of a cricket on a striped jumper is an illustrative photo rather than one of the escaped insects. It shows what the family was dealing with: small, fast, jumping insects that fit through gaps a person never notices.
His first reaction was calm. He assumed only one or two had slipped out while the lid was open and went back to work.
A one-line post follows, admitting that this was a mistake. It is the turning point of the thread, and one of the reasons it reads like a well-paced comic story.
He keeps hearing cricket-related shouting from the kitchen while trying to finish a story. When he finally goes to explain that the crickets have arrived, his wife answers that she is very aware of that, and wants to know why they are all over the kitchen.
He goes upstairs to check the bathroom. When he opens the door, the problem is much larger than he thought.
The crickets are on the floor, the walls, in the sink and in the toilet. The short, repetitive sentences make the scene easy to picture.
His first instinct, he admits, is to flush the toilet, which of course does nothing about the crickets everywhere else. He closes the door and calls cheerfully to his wife not to come in.
The box had not been sealed properly. He ran out through deep snow to the shed to fetch a spare aquarium, then spent about three quarters of an hour catching crickets in the bathroom.
By then many crickets had travelled further: into a closet, into shoes and down to the children's playroom. He guesses that for the family cats it was the best day of their lives.
He compares catching them to a very frustrating game of Pokemon, using a stronger word than that. About ten hours after the box was opened, stray crickets were still turning up in odd places.
The last post is the one most people remember. He jokes that if he goes quiet the next day, it will be because his wife found a cricket in their bed, and he signs off with the news from Red Lake Falls.
The reason for the whole order: a young bearded dragon. Bearded dragons are Australian lizards that eat both plants and insects, and live crickets are one of the most common foods sold for them.
How readers on Twitter responded
The thread drew thousands of replies. Most people simply enjoyed the storytelling, while others offered sympathy for his wife or turned the story into jokes of their own.
One reader said the very first line of the thread had already won him over. Ingraham's opening is a good example of how a plain, specific sentence can hook people better than a dramatic headline.
Another reader tried to retell the story to her partner as a cute anecdote about animal care. His only question was why anyone would own a lizard in the first place.
A Minnesotan in Shoreview kept it short and sent his best wishes for the marriage. Many replies took the same angle: the real drama was what his wife would say.
This reply plays on the phrase "hearing crickets", meaning awkward silence. The joke is that he could now hear real crickets during the silent treatment.
Here the delivery itself becomes the joke, comparing a modern online order to a biblical plague of insects. Several readers noticed that this was a very wintery version of an old story.
One reader says she read the thread aloud to her parents in a cinema lobby and strangers stopped to listen. It is a nice reminder that the thread worked as a spoken story too.
What people said on other forums
The story was also reposted on other sites, where commenters added their own advice and memories.
The most popular comment simply suggested letting the lizards loose to deal with the problem. It is funny, and it is also the one thing no reptile keeper should do.
A pun on the sport of cricket: get a cricket bat. Wordplay like this was everywhere in the replies.
Someone suggested a vacuum cleaner. It is actually a common tip for catching loose insects, as long as the bag is emptied outside afterwards.
A reader said they laughed hard and found the thread well worth reading. That kind of reaction is why the story spread so far beyond Minnesota.
This commenter shared a family story about an escaped pet tree gecko that disappeared for about a month while the house had a moth problem. Escaped reptiles often survive for a while indoors if there is food, though they need warmth and proper care to stay healthy.
Another said the same thing had happened to them and suggested turning the heating down and setting out a few space heaters, because crickets move towards warm spots. It is anecdotal, but it fits the fact that house crickets prefer warm conditions.
Finally, the most dramatic verdict: this was grounds for divorce. Judging by the light tone of the whole thread, the family took it in good humour, and the story became a household legend instead.
How to handle a box of feeder crickets
The insects in boxes like this are usually house crickets (Acheta domesticus), which became the standard feeder insect for the pet trade in the second half of the twentieth century. They are omnivores, they breed quickly in warm conditions, and they can survive for a while inside heated buildings, which is why a few strays can turn up days later.
- Open the box inside a container. A deep plastic tub, an empty bathtub with the plug in, or a tank with a lid lets you tip the crickets out without losing them.
- Have the home ready first. Set up a ventilated, lidded tub with egg-crate cardboard, food and a moisture source before the box arrives.
- Do not open it "just for a look". Once the tape is cut, crickets will start to leave. Decide in advance where and when you will transfer them.
- Order the right size. For bearded dragons, a common rule is that prey should be no bigger than the space between the lizard's eyes, since oversized food can cause impaction.
- Think about the diet as a whole. Bearded dragons also need leafy greens, UVB lighting, a basking spot and calcium supplements. Poor diet and poor lighting cause most of their health problems, so ask a reptile vet if you are unsure.
If crickets do escape, start in the warmest, dampest rooms, check under appliances and in shoes, and use a vacuum or a jar and card to collect them. Most will be found within a day or two.
Why the story still gets shared
Local outlets such as Minnesota Public Radio picked up the "great cricket debacle", and Ingraham later turned the episode into a column. The thread still circulates because it is honest and small: no one was hurt, a parent made a very relatable mistake, and he told it with good timing and a lot of self-mockery. For more household comedy, see Kayla Eby's Coyote Photo Prank Was a Photoshop Creation.
Sources: Christopher Ingraham's original thread on Twitter; MPR News: MN family survives the great cricket debacle of 2018; NPR via WLRN: reporter who called Minn. county the worst place to live is moving there; Wikipedia: House cricket; Wikipedia: Pogona (bearded dragons); cricket photo by jalexartis on Flickr.
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