I didn’t think I’d ever be the wife who calls (yells) for her husband because of an insect. The sister of three older brothers, I thought I was pretty toughened up with the regular Joe household ants, spiders, and flies.
But then I moved to a garden apartment in a new neighborhood and witnessed my bravery decrease with every increase of size in creepy crawlers.
I was right to yell and scream with the surprise flights of a bat in our apartment a few years ago. And I was right to shriek with a roach in my bathroom – my sanctuary after long days. But nothing prepared me for the scuttle of pure evil that would shock me as I sat on the toilet or sleepily walked out of the bathroom to start my day.
After Cody realized that my reactions were not silly or hyperbolic, we got down to business. Much of our coping skills rely on our sense of humor. So here’s a log of our experiences.
Tuesday: What the hell is this thing with legs, a hard shell, and a sense of foreboding? Is this one of the seven plagues? Were the Mayans right and this is how we experience Armageddon?
Thursday: “…Cody?” my voice shook calling him –“Cody..!” — as I saw the damn thing in the bathtub. Again. Bless his heart, Cody ran in like I was dying. I mean, I was, but it’s nice he thought I really was helpless. Once he caught the thing, we thought about flushing Satan’s spawn down the toilet but then realized we were probably actually just going to be saving its life by letting it back into the Hell Hole from which it came (and giving it an amazing hero story to tell its friends), and neither of us is that compassionate, so into the trash it went. We decided on the way to work that the bug’s name was Helen (since she was from the Hell Hole) and we would pray for the repose of her soul (or for the creation of it, since it’s possibly she never had one to begin with).
Update Friday after school, when the Universe is supposed to give teachers a break:
Sent to Cody via Google hangouts, “I think just killed Helen’s grandfather, the leader of the mob.
He had antennae the length of California and could barely move. I think he had a broken hip. He scared the s*** out of me because he snuck up by my foot while I was on the toilet.
I am traumatized for life.”
Update, Saturday morning: Helen’s family likes honey and/or pomegranate pizazz tea. We left a mug on our living room floor that had dried tea leaves on the inside of the mug (don’t judge – what is a home for if you can’t leave things for yourself on the floor and trust it’ll still be there in morning?). This morning, Helen’s Godmother was found enjoying the rest of the tea I thought I finished. Now I can’t get the image out of my head of this bug having a freaking field day outside our bedroom while we were innocently sleeping. It’s important to note that this bug was harder to kill. It was faster than Helen’s godfather was and almost escaped. Note to self: If I want to win a 5k, drink more pomegranate pizzaz tea with honey.
But really, I can’t even open the bathroom door without having a semblance of a panic attack. I think it’s time to call the exterminator.
May 20, 9:35 AM
Update: Cody hugged me after calling the exterminator and told me he’s happy that we’re in this together. I don’t have the heart to tell him that when the Oriental roaches mobilize and demand a human sacrifice, it won’t be me going into the hell hole. Sorry, baby. Love you forever.
Laughter makes everything better.
P.S. I’m not attaching any pictures because I care for your psyche. You’re welcome.