I hate roaches. They’re conniving little monsters, expert at the art of mind games. I never realized this til tonight. A couple nights ago, my low sugar got me up at 3:30am, I stroll into the kitchen, grab some tasty treats and head back into my low lit room. A nice big dark spot on the wall above my bed caught my eye. “Oh man, I hope to God thats a freakin moth, and not a… OH JEEZ, yup, thats a roach.”
I ran and grabbed the broom, ready and willing to kill for the sake of a peaceful nights rest. But the dilemma: how do I kill this beast without infecting my stuff? If I smack it good, it’ll surely splatter its creamy white guts all over my bed and maybe even myself. Legs and antennae could fly anywhere and everywhere. And if I just try to move it over, it could fly off the wall, into my hair, or my mouth and just go to town. So I did what I thought was the smartest thing……I slept on the couch. So yeah, I’m a wuss, just like the other fools on this website, but thats not all.
Tonight, I walk into my dark room, turn on the light, and yeah Mr. Roach is back again, about 2 inches from my bare feet. I exercised my right to scream and prance around like a schoolgirl (or boy) and out into the kitchen to get help. Once again the broom was the weapon of choice. But I waited too long, the roach scurried away as I went to clobber its nasty bod. I turned out the lights and I waited (out in the hallway of course) and soon enough, he was back for more. I wasted no time, I went straight for it, “Die sucker! Die!” I was merciless, wack after wack, I buried the little mother right into the carpet. It finally ceased to twitch and wiggle, lying lifeless on the cold tan floor. Yes! I had done it, I conquered the sick little maroon!! Relief instantly set in, I could now sleep without the fear of roaches setting up camp in my pajamas. I grabbed the nearest family member so I could bask in the glory of my kill, my trophy. (Well, that and I didn’t want to scrape its corpse out of my carpet fibers all alone.) My sis and I agreed to work together and scoop its body into a dustpan. As we bent down to retrieve the remains, the little bugger promptly got up, gave me the finger and darted right back under my bed. Blast!!
So much for being smarter than a bloody roach. I just pray that somehow I took away its ability to make babies, cos otherwise I’m in trouble. I’m off to snuggle up on my cozy couch.