Another Southern thing...

When? Yesterday morning, about 7am. Where? Bedroom, Casa Didgeridoo. Specifically, in the bed. What? A freakin' palmetto bug (also called "roach"). Big one - in fact, this one was more beast than bug. They're a fact of life here, especially when it gets really hot or we have heavy rains (which we had yesterday morning) - that is when these monsters choose to amble right on inside.

And where might this particular palmetto beast decide to be? On me. Right on my shoulder. It landed on my shoulder. On it. Right on it. In my sleep haze, I tried to slap whatever was tickling me away, an I felt it run.

It ran. On me. It ran on me.

And I began to flail. In the midst of the flailing fit, during which I came very close to knocking the crap out of a sleeping Didgeridoo Boy, something really, truly horrific dawned on me:

What if? What if it was IN MY HAIR???

Up. Quick. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Stomping left foot. Swinging head from side to side. Didgeridoo Boy wakes:

"What the ****?"


While still stomping, shaking my head, and waving my hands in the air, I, surprisingly calmly, said, "There is a roach in the bed."

He went back to sleep. At this point, I noticed the beast running on the bedroom floor. Totsi the Dog had noticed, too, and was standing on the bed looking very confused. As much as she wanted to protect me, she was afraid of how I was acting.

I sprang into action with a white Converse low top, which excited Totsi, who hopped about on the legs of the sleeping Didgeridoo Boy. Being a woman, I am incapable of tackling bug extermination projects without lots of screeches and squeals. Between a screeching wife and a hopping dog, poor "Sleeping Didgeridoo Beauty" had no choice but to wake. Again.

"Would you two shut up all that racket?"

I shouted, "Sure thing. Once it's DEAD!", and continued trying to whack the thing with my shoe. It's funny how Converse can ricochet. It's even more funny how Converse can ricochet when your aim is completely off due to being sleepy, and you wind up hitting on the edge of the sole. This property of Converse makes them not-so-good for killing palmetto beasts.

But I finally managed it. I'm still freaked out - every time I think about it, I feel that thing running on my shoulder. Didge has no recollection, which is probably a good thing, as he tends to run from them faster than I do.

Wasn't that a sneaky, long-winded way for me to get him back for sleeping through that?