Wednesday, May 31, 2006

My Bugged Washington House

I had issues last night.

First, the dog kept farting. I believe a few times it may have been my husband, blaming it on the dog, but it was mostly, unmistakably, canine gas. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the Febreeze (Yes. I keep Air Freshener handy in every room because I live with two men and a dog). It wasn't doing the trick. I grabbed a sheet and pillow and huffed off to spend the rest of the night on the sofa, my husband mumbling, "What's wrong?" half asleep.

He can apparently sleep in a fart fog just fine.

To sleep in the living room by myself, I need peripheral lighting. Otherwise the Boogey Man will get me. So I turned on the hall light and the kitchen light. I looked at the small granite flecks in the countertop.

And one of them moved.

Let me be clear: I do not do bugs. I am not a halfway afraid of bugs person. I am afraid of all bugs. I am afraid of ladybugs. Butterflies. Gnats. The only bug I am not afraid of is the ant (which, ironically, is the only bug that has ever bitten me and required a prescription. The bug that did me the most harm, I kind of like. Somewhere in that fact is a metaphor for my dating life ages sixteen to thirty).

So now I'm looking at this bug on my kitchen counter, and it's looking at me. I have often told my husband that I would not have dated him had his house, this house, not been bug free. This is the first bug I have ever seen in our kitchen (except, of course, an ant) and wouldn't you know it? It may be tiny, but make no mistake: it's a cockroach.

Mother f....

First, I located the only wine glass in my house that doesn't have a match and therefore can be sacrificed. My plan is to trap the roach under the glass. The roach was not born yesterday. Each time I even threatened to move the glass toward the counter, the roach moved. Finally, he hid behind an empty soda can (is the soda can the reason we now have roaches? Because of course I am now convinced we are infested and will live with roaches for the rest of our lives, carrying them from house to house, just like my Aunt who 'caught' roaches from an Army base thirty years ago and as far as I know, still has them... and whom I therefore refuse to visit).

It is almost midnight. I have a roach hiding behind a soda can, peeking out every few seconds to see if I'm still there. I do what any strong woman would do.

I start crying. First farts, now this?

I go back upstairs and stand at the foot of the bed. My husband wakes up, startled.

Him: Honey, what's wrong?
Me: I'm having one of those nights.
Him: What happened?
Me: There's a bug.
Him: You want me to come kill it?
Me: I do.

He half smirks, and half grimaces, then gets out of bed so he can come downstairs in the middle of the night and kill a tiny bug in the kitchen his wife wasn't supposed to be in at midnight anyway. This is a metaphor for HIS dating life since the night we met.

Husband enters kitchen, locates roach, and smacks the life out of it with his bare hand. I hear the distinct sound of a white horse whinnying outside, where it must be waiting with my husband's armor. Now I am all grateful and willing to sleep in a farty room with this absolute hero of a man.

He cleaned the counter and his hand, and I announced that I would be returning to bed. We pick up my sheet and pillow and head back upstairs. Now he can finally get to sleep.

Me: Where do you think that roach came from?
Him: I don't know, honey. A crack?
Me: Do you think we have roaches now?
Him: No.
Me: Why?
Him: I think we have too many moving boxes around. But thankfully, we are moving. I think if we kept living with this cardboard then yes... we'd have roaches.
Me: Okay.

Me: Do you think we should call Orkin?
Him: No.

Me: Because I heard that when you see one, there are....
Him: Honey.

I let him go to sleep.

I can always call Orkin in the morning. And report our warrantless bug.


Tulips said...

Ah - I laughed out loud. I laughed until I hurt a bit. And, I'm at the office. Oh well.

by the by:

That roach had nothing to do with the boxes from my house. I haven't seen a roach in my house. Lots of ants, yes, but no roaches.

kgiff said...

I was trying hard not to laugh out loud in the office, but my cheeks hurt for grinning.

I love your writing! Thanks for the laugh.

Here's to no more roaches before the move. And may the new house be bug free!

P.S. oh the irony of my verification word containing "bug"

kerry said...

OMG you are hilarious!!
KEEP IT UP!!! I love your blog!

Anonymous said...

LOL!!! I very recently found out that I've been misspelling the word Bogeyman. Like you, I always thought it was spelled Boogey Man. The correct way sounds like a silly moniker for a golf enthusiast.

My coffee-induced rambling calls for a Simpsons quote:
HOMER: Bart, I don't want to alarm you, but there may be a Bogeyman, or BogeyMEN in your room.
BART: *Screams*