Incredible Somersaulting Baby in Utero and I woke up pretty hungry last night around 2am. Not terribly convenient, especially since we were desperately short on anything easily edible in the kitchen, but I happened to find one remaining Blue Box in our cupboards, so all was okay. Plus, there's something really serene and peaceful about being up at such an hour: I don't feel the obligation to do something useful, as most of those activities involve noise-making (like washing the dishes, vacuuming, etc.), and since the TV lineup at 2am is, uh, less than stellar, I usually end up sitting in the quiet, tapping away on my computer. Quiet can be very soothing. So can tapping. I know I don't have too much longer to enjoy such uninterrupted solitude, so I try to enjoy it now while I can.
So I'm making my mac n' cheese snack - and, I'm so not kidding you, the baby starts kicking wildly the minute I open the box and start cooking, as if in hungry recognition of all the mac n' cheese meals that sustained him and I during the early months of my pregnancy - and I go to get a strainer for the pasta once it's cooked. And THAT is when that calm, serene peacefulness I was trying to enjoy was put to an end.
Roach turds. In my cupboard.
Okay, so I didn't know they were roach turds when I first saw them. I've never had to deal with roach turds before, so how would I know? But I see these little pellets, and I get suspicious, and the next thing I know, I'm actually Googling "roach turds" and "roach poo" while my macaroni finishes cooking. The Internet sadly confirms it: yes, these are ROACH TURDS.
Can I tell you how very sick I felt at that moment? Still hungry, but sick too? Ugh.
I decide to look up some more options online to deal with the roach turdness while I eat my macaroni. (I do have a stomach of steel, yo.) I go to grab the strainer, and out falls - yep, you guessed it - a ROACH. A very alive one, and not small at all. He (she?) jumps to another nearby bowl in the cupboard, frozen still, looking at me while I'm just staring at it like some bizarre human vs. bug standoff. I slowly back away, hearing old Western movie standoff music in my head, and go to the laundry room to get the bug spray we keep there.
When I open the door to go to the laundry room - because in this house, you must step outside briefly and then back inside again to reach the laundry room, don't ask - I'm greeted with another late night surprise: a roach FALLS ON MY HEAD.
At this point, it is all I can do to keep from screaming. Is someone filming this? Am I really just part of some low-budget horror flick? This is insanity. Gross, disgusting insanity. Nature is totally messing with the freaked out preggo lady.
I managed to get myself together enough to get Kamikaze Roach out of my hair and squashed under my flip-flop, get the bug spray, come back and completely soak Dirty Harry Roach (and all surrounding kitchenware) with bug spray, and break out some spray bleach to clean up the few little roach turds left. By this time, my snack, the Blue Box I was looking forward to eating, was total mush in the pot. I was still kinda hungry, too, so I actually finished making it with completely soggy noodles and ate it.
It wasn't very good, though. In addition to the sogginess, I kept looking around with every single bite, sure that there was some Head Honcho Roach, ten feet long with long scary tentacles and holding some sort of vendetta against humankind, waiting to spring upon me while I sat in my living room at an hour when Humans should clearly be asleep and the Bug World reigns supreme. It didn't help that I continued my Roach Googling, only to find out more than I ever wanted to know about the pestilence and disgusting grossness that roaches spread around your house, like diseases and putting you and your family at risk for food poisoning and stuff. There's nothing quite like reading about food poisoning from roaches when you're eating the World's Most Processed Food Ever after having had a huge multi-bug face-off.
I think I could be permanently cured of any urge to eat after going to bed. I don't want to see what's waiting for me in any other cupboard.
Now, I'm sure you are all equally disgusted, and I've probably alerted some sort of Internet sensor that will send DCF out to my house just for posting this, but people, I have Jason calling around RIGHT NOW to get some industrial-strength pest control out here. When it was the occasional, random roach, I would worry about how much it would all cost to call pest control and be sort of procrastinaty about it all. At this point, though, I would sell some vital organs just to get the bugs away. Anything, dear God, anything. Just get the bugs out of my house forever and ever, world without end, Amen.
And the only turds I ever want to find again are ones from my son when we let him run around without a diaper. Even then, maybe not those. A Turd Free Zone.
3 comments:
When we were first married, I opened the cupboard to get out our popcorn airpopper only to find that roaches had been using it as a nest. The inside was covered in live and dead roaches. It was disgusting.
Needless to say, we never used that popper again.
Sounds to me like you need some cypermetherin stat. (It is sold under the trade name of Demon) It is awesome if you need to kill things with more than four legs!
VM: I have to clean all my cupboards out, and I'm only slightly terrified as to what I'll find. We've eaten out all day because I'm just that freaked out.
Craig: Thankfully, Lewis Cobb pest control is on their way out next week, as it's probably not a smart thing to let me near anything named "Demon" (pregnant or not).
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