Bugging out. 

I’m going to be vulnerable with you about a deep, personal struggle of mine.

My personal leviathan- the cockroach.  A colossal bug that probably even gave the T. rex the heebie jeebies.  As I begin to write, nay, even think about this bug, my eyes begin to dart around frantically.  Hoping, praying today is the day I see no roach.

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No one likes roaches, except for lame trash robots that go to space.  I’d personally rather die alone on a polluted planet than spend one day in the company of a roach.  Maryland did not suffer roaches.  If you had roaches, this was a sign that something had gone very wrong.  There was and is a stigma associated with them.

Here in Norfolk? Common household pests.

Roaches do something to me.  Here’s me seeing a roach:

And this reaction has filtered down to the children as well:

Roaches.  A primeval scourge.  Sinister in their silence, unpleasant in their connotations and thusly truly terrifying.

Do they fly? Sometimes.  Just to keep me on my toes.  I once threw the entire Chronicles of Narnia at a roach until finally, just like Susan, he met his end at The Last Battle.

Hey Kaley, what’s going to happen? Why are you so scared?

First off, you’re an insensitive b-hole.  Second, it might. get. on. my. body.  Or worse, it might get stuck in my hair.  Excuse me for a second:


When my insecticide first wore off and roaches started making it through the gaping period holes in our walls alive, I was panic stricken. I began to scream myself hoarse.  Hoarse y’all.  It would start small.  Then as my pupils shrunk to tiny pinholes the scream would well up inside of me from a place I never knew I had.  I’d be like “no, it’s fine, I’m fine.  I’ve got this” but whenever I sat indoors I had the resting heart rate of a startled bunny.  I began to hide in my room singing “tiptoe through the tulips” under my breath.

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During the roach home invasion of 2015 I had the following encounters:

A roach came out of the cabinet under the sink and scurried over my foot.

A roach came around the corner of the couch and asked for directions to the nearest McDonald’s.

A roach staged his death behind the toilet… but he WAS NOT dead.  He was only faking.  I call that incident “the Reichenbach fall.”
Hear Maisy scream.  Go check out situation.  Friend visiting my house for the first time must kill roach because I have a phobia alright?! It’s a real thing!

Catch 3 roaches doing the “whip, nae nae.”

FaceTime with friend.  See roach.  Kill roach with broom while screaming.  Friend witnesses entire incident.

A roach rolled up to my chair in a calico critters coupe and asked for grey poupon.

And then I sprayed my house down with so much insecticide that I most  likely contributed to the death of  an entire oyster hatchery with the run off from my yard.  #savethebay. I’m sorry Bay.  I’m sorry roaches are so gross.  You understand.

I have to state firmly again that in Norfolk roaches are an actual thing.  Normal people get them.  Kind of rich people get them.  Clean people get them.  And of course I get them.  The above list I am not on, but I’m in good company. And I bid you good day.

Read this old blog post about bugs too!  I sure do hate bugs.

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