The other night I was working on Art's family genealogy which is why I'm not able to visit other blogs as often lately. I'm just trying to get done with this massive project. It wasn't supposed to be this big of one, but one thing led to another and I'm totally consumed by it.
Anyway, I digress. It was late. Probably close to midnight. Art was totally asleep. I turned off my computer and headed for our bedroom trying to be very quiet. Just as I was about to go through the doorway, my peripheral vision caught sight of something high up on the wall that shouldn't have been there.
When I looked above my head I saw the biggest darn roach I'd seen in a long time. It must have been over 9 inches long. OK... maybe that's an exaggeration. Did I screech like a wimpy girl? You bet! Probably woke the neighbors. Did I wake Art? Nope.
I furiously started considering my dilemma. Should I try to swat that huge tank of a cockroach on my own? I'd have to use my hiking boot (the one I haven't used on dirt in 3 years). I'd have to listen to the crunch. I might miss. Then it would fly. It might fall on top of me.
I woke Art up.
"You woke me up to kill a roach?????" he mumbled.
Then he saw the roach and said, "Whoa. That is a big one." It was much larger than it looks in the photo. The other photo is blurred probably because my hand was shaking.
He got our fly swatter and smacked it. It fell to the ground.
I screeched again. Sorry, neighbors.
But then it moved! It was still alive. Art put a newspaper on it and smacked it with his slipper to put it out of its misery.
I screeched again. I couldn't help myself. I'm so embarrassed.
Art went to have coffee with his friend, Morris this morning and told him about me and the roach.
Morris told him the roach pales in comparison to the 11 inch centipede that he found on his bed.
Have a peaceful Memorial Day, everyone. However, I'm going to try to wipe this out of my memory.