Victory or Death
Last night I nuked a roach. No joke.
Let me preface this story by saying that our microwave is only 15 years old. Just the other day Tim said, "I'm putting a box of baking soda in the microwave."
"Why?"
"Because it's old and it smells like shit."
"Okay."
So, last night, I temporarily took out the baking soda to microwave some sweet potatoes. (I'm making homemade food for The Little..cool, huh?) Anyway, I punched in 5 minutes and decided to do some light cleaning. I was putting some dishes in the dishwasher when the timer went off. I opened the door to rotate the taters and out from the bottom stumbles this disoriented roach.
My first thought was, "Oh SHIT a ghatdamn roach!" My second thought was, "Oh SHIT it was IN the microwave!" By the time I had my third thought, "KILL IT!", I couldn't find anything to grab but the baking soda box. The roach was hesistating just under the lip of the countertop, no doubt catching it's breath from near death. I, very much like a girl, attempted to kill it with the bottom of the baking soda box. The angle was weird and I missed. The floor was sprinkled with white dust and that little fucker got away.
Now, for those of you that know me, I don't kill bugs. I usually scream and run away. This was a big step for me. Also, at this point, I am FREAKING OUT because I saw a roach in my kitchen. Not to mention that he was still alive and out there somewhere. I was repulsed. Tim was going to have to do something about this when he got home. I will not have roaches in my house!
It wasn't until much later that I went downstairs to get a drink when I saw that little fucker again. He was smiling at me from my daughter's rice cereal box. "You're not getting away this time!" It took all of my inner strength, but I grabbed the box with the roach still perched on top. I nearly flipped out when it started to move, but I gathered myself enough to shake it off and forcefully stomp the shit out of it once it hit the floor. Sweet victory. At long last, it was mine again, if only for a little while. I know they'll be back. There's never just one, right?
I told Tim my story when we met in the parking lot for the baby swap. He knows me so well. I thought he'd be proud of me. I actually killed a wretched creepy-crawly thing, but his only reply was, "Did you clean it up?"
"No." Pause. Thinking of something smart to say. "I wanted to leave it for you as evidence!"
He smiled wryly and promised he'd put some traps out.
Let me preface this story by saying that our microwave is only 15 years old. Just the other day Tim said, "I'm putting a box of baking soda in the microwave."
"Why?"
"Because it's old and it smells like shit."
"Okay."
So, last night, I temporarily took out the baking soda to microwave some sweet potatoes. (I'm making homemade food for The Little..cool, huh?) Anyway, I punched in 5 minutes and decided to do some light cleaning. I was putting some dishes in the dishwasher when the timer went off. I opened the door to rotate the taters and out from the bottom stumbles this disoriented roach.
My first thought was, "Oh SHIT a ghatdamn roach!" My second thought was, "Oh SHIT it was IN the microwave!" By the time I had my third thought, "KILL IT!", I couldn't find anything to grab but the baking soda box. The roach was hesistating just under the lip of the countertop, no doubt catching it's breath from near death. I, very much like a girl, attempted to kill it with the bottom of the baking soda box. The angle was weird and I missed. The floor was sprinkled with white dust and that little fucker got away.
Now, for those of you that know me, I don't kill bugs. I usually scream and run away. This was a big step for me. Also, at this point, I am FREAKING OUT because I saw a roach in my kitchen. Not to mention that he was still alive and out there somewhere. I was repulsed. Tim was going to have to do something about this when he got home. I will not have roaches in my house!
It wasn't until much later that I went downstairs to get a drink when I saw that little fucker again. He was smiling at me from my daughter's rice cereal box. "You're not getting away this time!" It took all of my inner strength, but I grabbed the box with the roach still perched on top. I nearly flipped out when it started to move, but I gathered myself enough to shake it off and forcefully stomp the shit out of it once it hit the floor. Sweet victory. At long last, it was mine again, if only for a little while. I know they'll be back. There's never just one, right?
I told Tim my story when we met in the parking lot for the baby swap. He knows me so well. I thought he'd be proud of me. I actually killed a wretched creepy-crawly thing, but his only reply was, "Did you clean it up?"
"No." Pause. Thinking of something smart to say. "I wanted to leave it for you as evidence!"
He smiled wryly and promised he'd put some traps out.
8 Comments:
I remember a certain microwave from a house in Athens, Ga. that had an inside that looked like a mini set from Texas Chainsaw massacre. Some kind of tomato-based accident that neither you nor Chuntz would own up to.
You know the saying about after nuclear war the only creatures left will roaches and Cher. I think there is some truth to that. Good chattin with you last night.
That's why those bastards are virtually indestructable. Strange that while radiation doesn't do the trick, a cereal box will!
Brooks- It is none other than the infamous one from Athens. Still going strong. I yet have another roommate that does not like to clean it out, a.k.a. husband. Luckily, I learned a great trick- put a bowl of water and lemons in there for 5 minutes and it wipes clean effortlessly. Ditto about the chatting.
Dave- Just thinking about them makes me itch. Ugh! I'm going to go shower again.
I cringed when I did it. It's amazing that such a small thing can scare me to death!
I bet he really went cruuuuuuuuuuuunch, after being in the microwave for 5 minutes. Yuk!!!
J.
To tell you the truth, I didn't hardly look... and then I was too grossed out to clean it up. But I got him, I got him good. I think it was more like a SPLAT! (in Batman words).
I can't believe that is the same microwave from the '90s! You have definitely gotten your money's worth on that one. Our house came with one of those above stove microwaves from the 80s. The monster was bigger than most televisions.
Angela,
I feel the same way about roaches as you. Most bugs, while I don't like them, I don't have the paralyzing fear of them that roaches conjure in me. You should be proud of yourself for killing the thing. Roaches scare the shit out of me so much that I can't even kill one, because that would mean going near it and touching it. (And the possibility that if I miss, it might fly at me.) Roaches turn me into such a goddamn girl.
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