war on the homefront

All those roaches I mentioned a while ago? We had the pest control guy come out the next week to spray them all dead, dead, dead. My kind, loving, compassionate heart simply does not extend to bugs. Particularly disease-spreading, scary-looking, good-for-nothin' bugs.

However, I still can't get the memory of a bug falling on my head out of my brain.

Roach 1, Anne 0.

After the bug guy came and sprayed his lovely roach-ridding spray, I've found several very dead roach carcasses. Finally, our house seemed to be inhabited by only humans and one feline.

Roach 1, Anne 1.

Were we really even? I'd had no more bug-on-head incidents. No unidentifiable poop pellets. No more reasons to scream in terror at 2am, or any other time of the day or night. It seemed it was all over.

Tonight was Taco Salad night. We really look forward to Taco Salad night, because it's one of our favorite dishes, a special favorite with Jason, and I get to win easy culinary accolades with minimal effort. Cook up some ground beef, add a few seasonings, grab some toppings, and throw it all over tortilla chips. Easy peasy.

I'm heating up the stovetop burners to cook the beef and warm up the beans, and there's this... odor. And this... scratching.

You know where this is going, right?

Yeah. One live, huge cockroach, caught in the burner, cooked alive.

Have I mentioned the appetite-killing effect of a flailing, burning roach, even when faced with some seriously yummy taco salad? Ugh.

It might seem that this was another victory for my 6-legged arch nemeses. (Nemesissies?) After all, before the burners were on, that roach was quite alive and apparently not the least bit affected by a house-wide roach spray. And the scent of Roaches Flambe? Oh, oh, oh.

However, I think I sent a powerful message to that underground community of bugs just waiting to terrorize me: if you mess with this chick, I WILL COOK YOU WITHOUT MERCY.

Roach 0, Anne 156.

HA.