Last Minute Valentine's Day Post

Oh crap, Valentine's Day is this week. 

Actually, this isn't really last minute. You still have over twenty four hours to prepare. I, however, don't care about Valentine's Day at all, so instead I'm going to talk about cockroaches.

I used to live in this tiny house. It had one room upstairs, with a porch and set of stairs leading up to it. Inside this house was a very narrow closet, a bathroom with a toilet and a shower that was slightly larger than I was (every so often the sewage would back up into it and the only time I bothered to call the landlady, she was on vacation on Puerto Rico), a fridge about the size of glove compartment, the tiniest stove I have ever seen in my life, and a sink.

I slept on an air mattress on the floor, with a very short stool next to it which acted as a night stand. I also had a chair. The first night I lived there, I had no electricity. I lit tea candles and placed them all over the counter and the floor. It was quite Bohemian, in fact.

But the truth is, I did not live here alone.

In fact, my roommates were quite numerous, and rather unscrupulous, when it came down to it. If I locked the doors, they slid underneath. If I tried to poison them, they got tougher. Yes. My roommates were cockroaches.

One night, I woke up thirsty. As I took my two steps across the floor to get to the sink, I stepped on something that moved. If you have not had this experience, I recommend trying it once (just to get it out of your system) and then never doing it again. It's quite unnerving. I never understood why a creature that could see in the dark would just let itself get smashed by my foot. Of course it didn't die. So I turned the light on, caught it in a glass jar, and dumped it into a pot of boiling water--a very quick and painless way to die (I hope). Also it doesn't smear bug guts everywhere. Then I dumped it and the water off my porch.

But this isn't the most terrifying incident.

One evening, I arrived home late. I turned on my light before stepping into the room (a safety precaution which I learned quite rapidly after moving in) and glanced around. I saw, to my dismay, two of these nasty little creatures. The first was an easy hunt and kill. It only took about two minutes. But by the time I was ready to stalk the second, it had already climbed 3/4 of the way up the wall. Gross. But no problem.

I grabbed a chair and climbed up with my jar in hand. I almost had it, and then it jumped. I ducked, but would you believe it--that nasty little sucker flew! It sprouted wings! And then it landed on my back!!!

This was the first (and hopefully the last) time I ever screamed for a bug. Admittedly, it was more of a loud squeak, followed by flailing arms and swatting hands, but I promise, I took a very long shower afterwards. Oh, I caught it, by the way. Eventually. With a lot of stalking and jumping backwards. It was with ever so much pleasure that I watched it slide into the boiling water.

But you know what I will always remember? I will always remember the shape of its wings as it flew at my face. They were in the shape of a heart.

So if you're in need of a last minute Valentine's Day gift, just run outside, catch a cockroach, and give it to your favourite person in the world. If you're smart, you'll even dip in chocolate. Or gold. Or boiling water. 

Won't Dave be surprised. ;)