I. Hate. Cockroaches.
I always have, ever since we were forced to touch those huge ones in high school science class. They're big and hard and have unnaturally long antennae. They absolutely freak me out.
Thank goodness, for the last two years a couple of small spiders have been about the extent of the insect wildlife found here. I try to keep the house clean as to not attract these critters, and so far it has worked. Even so, I wear flip-flops or slippers around the house, because I am sure that stepping on any sort of insect with my bare feet would scar me for life. I'm positive of that.
Tonight, my worst nightmare almost occurred. I went downstairs with a basket of laundry and walked to the laundry room in the dark. Halfway through the door, I heard the sound I've been dreading my entire life -- a cockroach crunch. Yes, indeed, when I turned on the light, there it was. The stupid, ugly, son of a @#%#@$ had been tromping around in MY basement, when my flip-flop partially smashed its kidney, rendering it slightly injured and unable to quickly scurry away. With my anger only magnified by my pregnant raging hormones, I looked around the laundry room for an object with which to beat this thing. Sadly, all I could come up with was a paint mixer stick, and I took pride in beating the rest of the organs out of this unwelcome guest.
When Jonathan gets home, I will beg him to, first, pretty please scrape the remains off the basement floor, and second, to spray the entire exterior and interior of the house with the insecticide stuff sitting in the garage.
Until then, I will always walk with protective footwear and will sleep with a can of RAID by my bed.
1 comment:
Oh Kristi, You're too funny. However, I know EXACTLY what you're talking about.
Another unwelcome guest that never used to bother me, but does now are Crickets. In the past, I had no problem stepping on them, or smashing them with a solid object, until day I heard the sound they make, when death calls. There was a cricket that hopped into our kitchen from the back door, just chirping away, so I grabbed a paper towel, went over, and smashed it! The unpleasant sound and the solid vibration of the exoskeleton crumpling underneath the paper towel damaged me for life. I will never again kill a cricket. I get chills thinking about the sound. It's so bad, that one day, I found a cricket in our basement, I put a plastic cup over it, and waited till Aaron got home, so he could kill it. He says I'm weird.
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