It all started with toast. Zoey wanted a toasted sandwich for lunch so I popped a couple pieces of bread in the toaster oven. As we were waiting patiently Zoey screamed and pointed.
And sitting there on top of the dish towel next to the toaster oven was this big ol’ ugly cockroach.
Big. Ol’. Ugly.
It was staring at us like, “Dude! I was totally dozing off under there and BOOM! on comes the sauna. A little warning next time?”
So I grabbed the frying pan sitting on the stove and went after it like Conan the Barbarian. I wanted to hit it hard, but we had just installed granite counter tops. I was a gentle barbarian. So it skittered across the stove where I really started scaring it. It slipped beneath one of the burners and under the drip pan.
Me: “Damn it.”
Roach: “Ha! Mother fu...”
Zoey: “Turn the burners on. All of them.”
Roach: “Oh crap.”
Well, I must have gotten a good hit in there somewhere because when I lifted the drip pan it was on it’s back wiggling it’s legs in what I imagine was roach sign language for “CALL 911! I’VE BEEN ATTACKED! THEY’RE ALL PSYCHOTIC!!! GAAAAAHHH!”
Both the girls were just fascinated with the roach’s death throes. A little shot of Raid and it was over. And there soon followed with a thorough and careful scrubbing of the counters.