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.
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.
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.