Friday, July 29, 2011

Me and My...Cockroach?

            I stepped into the shower this morning and breathed in deeply. Steam billowed around me; the stiffness in my muscles began to melt away as the water rained gently from above. I began to think that the day might turn out to be a good one. Bad days didn’t usually start out so pleasantly.

            I squirted a blob of peach-scented shampoo into my hand and began to lather my hair.  The smell of Georgia in summer permeated the air. It was uplifting. Yup, it was going to be a good day.

            I tilted my head back to rinse off the shampoo lather when I noticed that I was not alone. A cockroach waved his antennae at me from where he clung to the ceiling directly above me. To say I was not charmed by the 2-inch-long bug’s antics would be a huge understatement. He was not cute and I did not want to share my shower with him.

            I carefully considered my options. My usual method of getting rid of a roach was to throw a carefully aimed shoe in his direction and then scoop up the smashed mess with a paper towel for disposal. For obvious reasons, that wasn’t going to work for me this time.

            I wiped the soap out of my eyes with the back of my hand. I had to know where the darn roach was at all times. If he started crawling towards me, I was going to scream. How that would help I had no idea, but screaming was definitely part of my general game plan.

            I thought about quickly getting out of the shower and running to my closet in the bedroom to get a shoe to use as a catapult. There was shampoo dripping into my eyes and I was wet. Half blind, I would probably slip on the bathroom tile and end up spending what was supposed to be a good day in the emergency room. That would be bad. I racked my brain for another option.

            I considered shooting water at him to dislodge him from his perch on the ceiling. That would get him down, but where would he go? He would land somewhere in the shower stall. The roach was too big to fit down the holes in the drain, so he’d probably end up on the floor. Right next to my feet? So not.

            I finally decided that the roach and I were going to have to coexist for a short time. I kept one eye on him at all times, which, as you might expect, does indeed make it extremely difficult to wash your face. The rest of me got a haphazard swipe with a wash cloth and a quick rinse. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned off the water and got out of the shower.

            Dry and wrapped in a towel, I went to the closet and came back with one of my husband’s black dress shoes. I never use my own shoes when killing roaches if I can help it and what my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

            Amazon warrior woman was going huntin’. I strode back into the bathroom, weapon firmly in hand. How dare that disgusting roach ruin my peaceful shower with his disgusting roach presence! I got my weapon ready and slammed open the shower door. “I have you now,” I yelled, and then gave the venomous chuckle that goes along with said cliché. I looked up, brandishing my shoe fiercely at…the ceiling.

            There was no sign of the freshly showered cockroach. I had no idea where he had gone, except that he was loose somewhere in my bathroom. The thought sent chills down Amazon warrior woman’s back. I left the bathroom, grumbling to myself. If that roach knew what was good for him, he’d catch the first bug train out of the house. How dare he mess up my morning?

            Tomorrow I’d be looking for him before I got into the shower.