Please excuse me, as I have to revert to the 1950s and say, DAMN DID I EVER WISH I HAD A HUSBAND LAST NIGHT. Um, yea, I saw a 3-inch long cockroach in my bathroom. If you know me, you know I get the shivers and the screams when I see those dinosaurs. I would prefer a mouse.
I saw the beast, yelped, got fully dressed head to toe, pulled my hair back, grabbed Endust, bleach and a shoe, shut the cat out, and sprayed and screamed. I destroyed a favorite photo in a frame in the midst of my spray attack, but I don't care. Then, sweaty and red, I wrapped my hand in plastic and used 4 paper towels to pick the thing up and tossed it one foot into my toilet.
My apt isn't spin-n-span but it isn't filthy either. I am blaming this on the upstairs drug dealer, who I hear is a pig.
Time to harass the landlord.
2 comments:
Go for it. Messy neighbors can totally cause for rodents to come into your living space.
my husband is afraid of spiders, so don't be so sure that a husband would've saved you
Post a Comment