It's been a tense week. No internet, and all that. I'm stressed.
Anyway, I was checking the "little loo" to make sure it was
visitor friendly.
There he was, lying legs-up on the floor - just one antenna twitching
sporadically. In the throes of roach-death, he looked harmless.
I ripped off a couple of sheets of toilet paper and leaned over to pick him
up. As my fingertips closed around his little body, a miracle occurred, and he
scuttled off - resurrected just seconds before he would have been flushed
away.
A tiny squeal escaped my lips, and I hurried out to fetch the can of certain
death.
He was waiting for me, a gleam in his roachie eye. I should have known ...
As I sprayed him, he headed directly for me, and as I jumped he veered left to hide behind the ironing board and a pile of old school books in the passage.
Great, I thought, he would die there and my Cleaning Fairy could sweep him
up when she arrived on Tuesday.
I turned back towards the bathroom to rinse my hands and flush the sheet of
toilet paper I had been holding.
He chose that moment to COME BACK – flashed past my foot and just brushed my toes on his way behind the loo.
Bigger scream this time. And to my shame, I ran!
Dearest Love wasn’t sure whether to laugh at me or not. Just leave it, he
said.
But I was determined to finish this monster off, once and for all.
So back I went, armed with my spray can.
I peered cautiously behind the loo, where I expected him to be.
Nothing.
I stepped backwards to get a better angle.
Crunch! Squelch!
Me screaming like a girl!
That awful feeling under my bare foot.
In my desperate effort to not leave a trail of roach-gunk, I hopped towards
the kitchen, and realised - in my state of horror - that the back door was
locked.
No time to look for keys, I prayed that the front door would be open so that
I could wipe this nastiness from my heel.
Please don’t tell the kids I rinsed Lazarus off in the pool J
It’s all over now. The memory is fading. But I’m watching where I walk ...
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