I don’t do critters. And by critters, I’m talking fleas, ticks, and cockroaches. I don’t play. You want to know how much I don’t play…
I was getting home from work. Mind you, it’s pushing almost 11 o’clock at night. It’s been a long night. I’m over dealing with people for the day, I’m ready to eat and lay out. I mean, who doesn’t feel that way after work some days.
I’m walking to our first floor apartment, minding my business, contemplating the lovely way I’m about to splash in bed after I put my bags down. I have the way the pillows will feel under my head, and the warmth of the covers already planned out. I’m so sure I’ll just fall straight to sleep that I’m fast walking to the door. But wait!
There was a roach cruising by out of the woodworks around our apartment complex. I thought, “Ewww. Gross. But you better not get any ideas.” I continue my walk to the door and it’s not Mr. Roach got faster. Like he was waiting for the door of the movie theater to be open so he can run through.
Being rather competitive (even against animals) and wanting to outrun my fellow cockroach, I sprinted for the door…Little did I remember, the stupid things can fly. This dude was like, “No, I’m getting in your house, boo.” Right when I unlocked the door, this huge crunchy beast flew smack down into the door, plopped on the floor, and proceeded to run his hairy, crusty buns into the house. And he’s running like he’s getting chased by the cops, or trying to get an Olympic Gold for a dash to the finish line.
It was then…she knew…It. Was About. To Go. Down. Oh yes, ladies and gents! No time was wasted. I whisked my jacket and bags down so fast you would have thought I was a professional stripper. I began to talk to Mr. Roach. We were in a stand off and he needed to know that I was not going to sleep with him making a home in my place.
He made a dash for the couch. After a lunge and misplaced footing, he slid under the couch as a man seeking sanctuary. No worries. Because the night wasn’t over with, yet. I began to talk to Mr. Roach. We were in a stand off and he needed to know that I was not going to sleep with him making a home in my place.
I muscled that couch out of the way and proceeded to stomp anything that looked brown or wiggled. He blitzed, zig zagged, and raced for protection under out love seat. This went on for quite some time. I enlisted our broom and dust pan into the fight for sleep as well They were drafted shortly after looking under the couch on my hands and knees yielded no results.
I probed and prodded at the tool box under the couch. I hit the couch to make him scurry in fear. I moved the love seat out of the way, only to see….Nothing. Nothing. Are you kidding me? I was scrapping my mind thinking the worst. “He ran to another room, perhaps. Or did he get into the couch? Oh my gosh! He got into the couch?! What the heck? We’re going to have to burn the couch.”
By this time…I’m paranoid and sleep deprived. I got home at 11PM, and this had to end. After one more hit of the couch, at long last…I saw him! He attempted to run towards another obstacle, but this time it was the tool box which was found near our porch door. Oh, sweet bubbles! I sprang forward, thrust the broom into the ground like a spear, and swept him swiftly into the dust pan. HA HA! Just as I was about to administer the final blow, the environmentalist, I-love-animals me tried to pipe up.
“Maybe he has a little roach family. I can just throw him outside and all will be well. I’ll put him in the woods so he wont think to come near my home again.”
His body wasn’t moving much anyway, so why not? I surely had enough time to…WHAT THE FRENCH TOAST?!
The little beast went sky diving to the carpet. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! That was at 1:00AM. The. Next. Frickin’. Morning!
No more Mrs. I Love Animals right now…I flipped the couch forward and cornered him in a box, and for a brief moment considered letting him out, but then remembered that almost an hour ago, I tried the same darn thing and he took my offer and went sky diving back to the carpet. So, at 2AM, I had no FunYuns left. Cockroach John had to go. Crunch! But CockRoach John…Hello hot shower, bleached and vacuumed floor, cleaned counters, and finally…
Ever had a moment with a critter? Spill the beans on how you ran away or conquered your territory.