This past week Kevin was out of town and I did not want to write this post until he was back because of security purposes. Anyway, you always learn how much your significant other does when they are not available to help you. Most of the time Kevin helps me without complaining, and without me saying please. I appreciate you, boo.
It was Wednesday and the sun had fallen, marking the completion of 4 days without Kevin. I was in the bunny loft watching the hoppers when I decided to place an online order. I descended two flights of stairs to retrieve my credit card before having to reascend to the bunny loft. Typically, this wouldn’t be necessary because I have my number memorized, but I recently received a replacement card and ain’t nobody got time to memorize 16 new numbers, and a more difficult security code. I approached the top of the second flight of stairs, looking forward to my purchase and also impressed that I was not out of breath after ascending at record speed. That’s when I saw it.
As I walked down the 6 foot hallway between the top of the stairs and the bunny loft I spotted a brown roach at eye level on the wall. Let’s flashback to early that day when I was bragging to my friend about how bug free my new house was. Flashback over. I glanced over at Loafer as if to ask for some emotional support but her eyebrows responded with a nice but firm “you’re on your own.” I stared at the roach and before my very eyes it FLEW to a spot in the corner of the hallway. As if being a roach wasn’t terrifying enough already, this thing could fly. Anxiety built in my chest.
After standing there frozen I knew what I had to do. Step 1: Tweet my problems (@anlalley – follow me!) Step 2: Text Kevin about the situation. Step 3: Put on my MacGyver hat and try to find a solution because there was no way I was going to sleep in a house where a flying roach could attack me at any moment. There were no shoes around or anything hard enough to smash the indestructible thing. I had no hazmat suit or goggles. I found the only thing I could possibly think of to help my situation: Windex.
I turned the Windex to the spray at full blast setting that is only necessary for bug killing. I started to squirt that little sucker when it began flying around and terrorizing my house. I just couldn’t stop spraying the windex and approximately 100 sprays later it’s wings were so soaked in toxic chemicals that it spiraled to the staircase. Really, roach? We’re taking it to the stairs?
I trapped the roach under a measuring cup before conducting an inventory of possible supplies to limit contact between my fingers and it’s body. Magazine cover page? Perfect. I slid the magazine cover page underneath the measuring cup and transported the roach to the toilet where it reached it’s unnatural conclusion. If you didn’t get the memo, that means I killed it. I slipped and slid out of the bathroom only to realize that I was standing in the midst of a windex war zone. There was windex EVERYWHERE.
Since I am a multi tasking expert I live tweeted the entire incident, took photos, and texted Kevin for the emotional support that Loafer couldn’t provide. I wouldn’t say I survived this battle, but then again I didn’t get flushed down a toilet at the end of it either.
In case you were wondering, yes, I eventually placed my online order. The end.