A cockroach crept onto my bed this morning, just half an hour ago.
We stared at each other.
It contemplated its next path.
I considered my options:
a) Scream and wake Andrea up.
b) Hit it hard and let it die on my bed. eww.
c) Boil water and scald it to death.
None of them was really viable. I stood there and said a silent prayer: Lord please take the cockroach away without me having to do anything.
And the cockroach started twitching its digustingly long feelers. It began to move -- towards my pillow! Grabbing my pillow and flinging it to a safer corner of my bed, i swept the cockroach onto the floor with a piece of paper.
Quickly running to my bathroom, i retrieved the plastic cup that i've just thrown away yesterday. An action plan was quickly forming in my head. I could always trap the cockroach first and then ask Andrea to kill it when she wakes up.
It was now on the floor. Not moving, but still twitching its feelers. I aimed for it.
Darn! Missed it.
It was running fast this time, running for its life. I screamed.
Andrea, still half asleep, opened an eye. I looked at her in desperation: "Andrea, we've a cockroach in our room!"
She calmly sat up on her bed, tied her hair, and reached for her specs.
Valiantly holding a shoe in each hand, she lowered herself and peered into the dark corner of the wardrobe where it was now hiding.
Whack. Whack. Whack. She hit hard at the cockroach. Dragging the cockroach out with a shoe, she said: "I think it's dead now."
She took some tissues, collected the carcass and threw it away.
Yay! Andrea vs Cockroach: 1-0.
I'm just hoping now that the dirty fella doesn't have any kids.
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