Me: The Cockroach Assassin (An Old Blog for Summer Break)

I simply can’t write during Summer Break.
I’m blaming my kids, since they’re home from school and currently draped over various pieces of furniture, staring at mind-numbing electronic devices. They would honestly let me sit at the computer all day long if it meant they could continue their non-activity but watching them sit there MAKES ME CRAZY.
Isn’t that strange? That watching someone do nothing at all could make you want to snatch that iPhone out of their hands and stomp it to death?
It’s this particular mania that has led me to countless pool-trips, friend-visits and dollars spent on Groupon, just so they’ll PUT DOWN THAT DAMNED DEVICE!
It’s also why I’m posting a very old blog from my even older Blogspot account. I can’t find the brain-space to write now so I’ll just share stuff I could write then. Enjoy!


Did you know that cockroaches are warm to the touch?
Well, I didn’t actually touch him. I just stepped on him one night in our old house.
See, we use to have a HORRIBLE roach problem. I remember opening a bathroom drawer right after we moved in to find a roach feasting on my toothbrush. He didn’t even run, just looked up at me like he DARED me to do something. I was a cockroach novice so I just screamed and slammed the drawer shut. It wasn’t long before I became the John Rambo of killing cockroaches, though. I was especially lethal with a flip-flop. We had so many that we could distinguish their personalities. I remember my husband walking down the hallway while one trotted along next to him. Dave said, “Aww, he seems friendly!” So I killed it with a flip-flop.

We tried multiple exterminators who always had some lame excuse for our problem, like YOU LIVE BY A LAKE or YOUR KIDS ARE DROPPING FOOD. Then one of my girlfriends told me about the World’s Greatest Exterminator. I can’t remember his name so I’ll just call him Stan the Bug Man.

My friend said, “He’ll talk your ear off but he’s good.”

She wasn’t kidding. I remember Stan chatting me up in the kitchen while a worker in a Hazmat suit blasted our yard. I asked Stan why he needed the suit and he said, “Oh, he’s just being overly cautious.”

Whatever they sprayed on my yard worked. We had absolutely NO cockroaches after that for about 9-months. We also had no bees, butterflies or bats. Even our geckos developed a twitch. Stan dropped by to check in 6-months later & talked to me for about 45 minutes straight. He must have a secret breathing technique because he didn’t appear to stop between stories. I was worried because none of our hummingbirds had turned up that Spring and he told me why. Stan said that hummingbirds migrated by snuggling into the feathers of pelicans & hitching a ride. Our hummingbirds hadn’t returned because the pelicans weren’t back yet.

I just smiled and nodded while I tried to decide if Stan was Cute-Safe-Crazy or No-Sharp-Objects-Crazy.

It didn’t matter because I never heard from Stan again. I don’t know if he forgot about us or succumbed to his own bug-spray but he never dropped by again. Fortunately, my husband found a crack in our garage door. It must have been the Cockroach-Super-Highway because once he fixed it, we stopped seeing them.

But let’s get back to my warm-blooded-nighttime-cockroach from so many years ago.

I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and stepped on something warm on my way there.

I turned on the light and there on the carpet lay one tiny cockroach leg. I knew he had to be limping around in the dark somewhere, but it was the middle of the night. I didn’t want to wake my husband so I went about my business.

Seconds later, I was doing what I got up to do when Guess-Who came climbing up the bathroom wall, right next to my head. I knew it was him too, because he was struggling to make the climb with only 5 legs.

This guy had NO FEAR whatsoever! I was so impressed that I even felt kind of sad when he lost his footing a few times. Maybe I should help him out. Grab a cup, scoop him up & throw him out in the yard. I mean, what could it hurt? Why must this battle continue? Why can’t we all just get along?

Then I got over it, went to the closet and dug out a flip-flop.

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