We found a roach. A GIGANTIC roach. Let me put it in perspective: this roach was so big that the manager of the leasing office (because Fearless Husband took it in to show to the maintenance guys) thought it was a PLASTIC TOY. And we also found THREE egg sacs. This grosses me out even more. To think - if Big Meanie hadn't shown up, leading us to look in every nook and cranny, we could have had a gazillion of 'em. NASTY.So now we have to have our apartment sprayed - which means that we have to clear out every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen and bathrooms. Which is annoying, but a lot less annoying than the alternative. (note: Fearless Husband that it's gel pesticide, not spray, in all the little spaces that we and the dog can't get to but bugs can. No bug bomb.)
We are sad about the roaches. We don't think that we're filthy people. Sure, I don't clean the bathroom as much as I should... or vacuum... or sweep under the refrigerator, but believe me, I have known some gross people, and we are not them. So why are we the new haven for creepy-crawlies?
Awesome. Now the dog is sniffing a cabinet. I just hope he likes the smell of scrapbook supplies.
nasty awful creepy grossness - F
2 comments:
I, personally, have always known, deep down, that you are a filthy person.
Ain't no bugs on me or near me. And don't bring them home when you come to visit. Double yuck!
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