It was 6:00 a.m. on Easter Sunday morning. I went to the bathroom, but didn't turn on the light. As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed a dark spot on the wall between the vanity and the shower wall. The last time I saw a dark spot on the wall (in the exact same location) was seven years ago, a few days after I had moved in here. I screamed, "Oh Hell NO! You bastards...you mut..." and turned on the light just in time to see a "waterbug" (c'mon--it's a cockroach) scurry behind the vanity. I ran to the kitchen, but the can of Black Flag Ant & Roach spray was empty. Argh! Wait! I still have that bottle of Boric Acid! Wasting no time at all, I ran back to the bathroom. Peering closely at the hole between the vanity and the wall, I noticed a piece of leg and a waving antenna...he's still there. (or so I thought)
Laughing maniacally, I dumped a large amount of boric acid into that corner. Then, using a plastic spoon, I shoveled copious amounts of the foul powder into the hole. "Die, you villainous insect. Die!!!" I cried. Feeling rather satisfied that anything hiding in that hole was now coated in a caustic substance, I crawled back into bed.
Over the next few days, I entered the bathroom slowly, scoping out the floor and walls to see if any of his brethren had come to avenge his death. Sunday? All clear. Monday? All clear. Tuesday? All cle..perhaps I spoke to soon...
As per my usual routine, I fell asleep on the sofa during the news and woke up at 3:00 a.m. I remembered that I hadn't watched Gilmore Girls, which I taped earlier, so I watched that before bed. When it was winding to a close (about five minutes left) I started getting ready for bed. I went to the bathroom to wash off my makeup, then walked into my bedroom to turn down the bed and set the alarm. I turned to leave my room, and--EEEEKKK!!--there was my arch-nemesis, in the doorway, standing between me and freedom. He must have hitched a ride on my pajamas, because he was not there before. Well, You may have outsmarted me, and you may be the only thing left alive after a nuclear holocaust, but you are no match for a size 10 navy blue Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star.
CSI investigations (see chalk outline) showed no evidence of boric acid on the body, so the little bastard was NOT in the hole at the time of my boric acid dousing...or, he and his kind have built up a resistance to the stuff.
I have visions of happy little cockroach children having "snowball" fights with the boric acid.