We recently had an unwanted and uninvited guest in our house and I'm scared. I'm not talking about some long-staying relative or casual aquaintance who is friendly because of where I live, I'm talking about the six-legged kind.
I came out into my NYC kitchen two mornings ago to find a hugely gigantic disgusting cockroach waiting for me! Naturally I ran into the other room screaming, because isn't that what you're supposed to do? As I stood explaining to The Professor how he had to come get it, I realized it must be dead because cockroaches are notoriously shy and don't wait around to show themselves off. I still insisted it be removed by someone other than me.
I hate bugs. I hate snakes more--but I do maintain a healthy section in my heart where I soundly hate bugs, too. (It's right next to the areas reserved for exes, a few ex-bosses and most Republican politicians.) I want to respect them (the bugs, not the Republicans), but I just can't. And cockroaches are some of the worst. Even if they wore funny little hats or tap shoes, I couldn't be swayed.
And now our first one. I don't know how he got here or why he chose the middle of my kitchen floor to die, but more importantly, what if he has friends or family who come looking for him?